Limerence Laws
by Kittenshift17
Summary: War breeds chaos, but no one ever imagined the Ministry would make a move like this. A law that every witch must marry two wizards seems a step too far in Hermione's opinion. Especially when it's her subconscious infatuations that see her paired with two wizards who would sooner kill each other than play nice.
1. Chapter 1

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:** A huge thank you to MrsaTurtle, ShayaLonnie, Freya Ishtar and Canimal for Alpha-Reading this for me. A special thank you to Abbi for all the help with the summary. Summaries are the bane of my existence, so I adore you all the more for helping me. I was hestiant but super excited to share, and wouldn't have without your encouragement on this one. Love you, ladies!

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 **WARNINGS:** This fic includes Triad relationships that are M/F/M. If you can't handle mentions of or allusions to slash, probably don't read. It's also Dub-Con because it's a Marriage Law fic.

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 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

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 **CHAPTER ONE**

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"So tell us, Hermione," a tipsy and giggly Lavender Brown nudged her playfully. "If you had to describe your perfect man, what would he be like?"

"Oh, I can't wait to hear this one!" Ginny Weasley piped up, her eyes slightly unfocused from the whiskey they were all drinking, camped out in the seventh year girls dormitory, high in Gryffindor Tower.

Luna Lovegood was nodding along, looking more interested in the conversation than she had been all night long and Hermione gulped slightly to find the attention of nine witches suddenly focused on her.

"Oh, I don't know." Hermione tried to evade the question. "Who has time for wizards with studies to attend to?"

"COP OUT!" Fay Dunbar shrieked, lobbing a pillow at Hermione from across the room before she began necking most of the Elf-made wine left in the bottle she clutched.

"Come on, Hermione," Lavender wheedled. "Who are we going to tell? We're all too tipsy to even _remember_ any of this tomorrow."

Hermione bit her lower lip, glancing at the other girls in her dormitory. She was a bit reluctant to go listing the traits she most enjoyed because, well, it was so hard to choose, wasn't it?

"TELL US! TELL US! TELL US!" Ginny began a chant, sloshing whiskey from her glass as she waved her arms about dramatically, already particularly intoxicated.

"Fine!" Hermione snapped, clapping her hands over her ears until the chanting stopped.

Collecting her thoughts, Hermione took a sip of her whiskey before she began.

"My perfect wizard would be… someone who could make me laugh," Hermione said quietly, closing her eyes to truly think about it. "Someone as volatile in his moods as I am. Someone powerful who would make me tremble just to be in his presence. Someone charismatic. Focused, but fun-loving. Someone broody and secretive, but yet transparent with me. He'd have to be someone I could heatedly debate magical theory with. Someone who would make my insides quiver and make the place between my legs ache to have him inside of me. Gods, he'd have to be someone quick-witted. I can't imagine ever being with a man who couldn't keep up with me intellectually."

"Oooooooh!" Lavender quivered in her chair and Ginny stopped goofing off long enough to actually look over in surprise at Hermione descriptions.

"That sounds like more than one wizard," Parvati told her, frowning slightly. "Volatile but fun-loving? Charismatic but terrifying? Smart and silly? You'd need two wizard to meet all of that criteria."

"Hush up, Parvati." Lavender shushed her best friend. "You're ruining the image. What does he look like, Hermione?"

"Hmmm." Hermione kept her eyes closed, sipping her whiskey again as she filtered through the appearances of what seemed like every male she knew.

"Someone with dark hair," she told the other girls. "Worn a bit longer than most wizards tend to wear theirs, I think. Oh, and tall. He'd have to be tall, but not a meat-head."

"And his eyes?" Luna asked, looking dreamy as she imagined the man – or men – Hermione could be describing.

"Oh, the eyes are the hardest, aren't they?" Hermione sighed softly. "I've never been able to decide what kind of eyes I like best. Dark eyes filled with secrets? Bottomless wells that I could lose myself in, if he'd let me? Or maybe lighter, something bright and alive with mischief, like an icy blue or grey? But then green eyes are so alluring as well."

"Oh, green eyes are divine," Ginny sighed, obviously thinking of Harry as she said so.

"I've always been partial to hazel eyes myself," Parvati mused. "Eyes that look like they change colour in different lights. Oh! You know whose eyes do that? Do you all remember Oliver Wood? He had the most delightful hazel eyes that just came alive when he'd talk about Quidditch."

"Oliver was dreamy," Ginny agreed. "I wonder what he's up to these days. Last I heard he was still playing for Puddlemere."

"He still does," Luna said softly.

"Oh, tell us you're ideal bloke, Luna," Lavender said. "Before I drool over the idea of Hermione's perfect man."

"Men," Parvati corrected.

"Hmmm," Luna said quietly. "I think I'd like someone interesting."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

CALLING ALL WITCHES

 _The Ministry of Magic have invited every able-bodied witch to attend a special gathering at the Ministry Offices this week, requiring that any witch currently unmarried and over the age of seventeen present herself at her earliest convenience._

 _Insider information at Hogwarts says that the Ministry has even arranged to have all female students who meet the required mandates Flooed to the Minsitry offices throughout the week for testing. No word yet on how Headmaster Dumbledore is taking this most recent of rash actions undertaken by the Ministry within Hogwarts._

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

"Miss Hermione Jean Granger?" a witch dressed in a formal looking lab coat asked, eyeing Hermione over the top of her spectacles. "That is your full name, correct?"

"It is," Hermione confirmed, sitting on the edge of the examination table she'd been asked to utilize and twisting her hands nervously in her lap.

"Do you currently, or have you ever had any children, Miss Granger?" the woman asked her.

"No."

"Are you now, or have you ever been pregnant, Miss Granger?"

"No." Hermione frowned.

"Are you currently sexually active, Miss Granger?"

"I hardly see how that's any of your business," Hermine snapped.

"Answer the question, Miss Granger. These are routine questions that all of your classmates, and indeed, all of the witches meeting our criteria are being asked about. Myself included," the witch said in a voice that suggested she was in no mood to play games.

"I'm not currently sexually active," Hermione replied coldly.

"Are you a virgin, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's cheeks bloomed crimson at the question. She opened her mouth, intent on telling the woman to stuff it, but bit her tongue on the urge.

"No, I'm not a virgin," she bit out coolly.

"Historically within your family, have your ancestors predominantly produced male or female offspring?" the woman asked her.

Hermione blinked, her anger dissipating at the odd question.

"Erm… a bit of both, really," Hermione frowned thinking through her cousins and her aunts and uncles. "Maybe a few more boys than girl in each generation."

The witch made a note on the chart she was filling out as she quizzed Hermione.

"Are you currently dating anyone, Miss Granger?"

Hermione shook her head.

"No."

"If you had to describe your ideal partner, what words would you use?" the woman asked.

"Erm…" Hermione bit her lip again, thinking back on the conversation she'd had with the girls just last week. "Charismatic. Volatile. Fun-Loving. Quick-witted. Powerful. Intellectual. Funny."

The woman wrote down each of the words Hermione used.

"Do you have a preference for what type of men you are usually attracted to, Miss Granger?"

"I like dark hair," Hermione offered, her cheeks pink. "The darker the better."

"How old are you, Miss Granger?"

"Eighteen," Hermione told her. "It was my birthday yesterday."

"Oh. Happy birthday," the witch wished her, a small smile pulling at the concerns of her mouth. "However, are you sure that your birthday is accurate? Our testing has you listed as being closer to twenty in physical time spent living on this planet."

"Oh, um, that's probably because I was using a Time-Turner during my third year," Hermione explained, "I had to use it many times each day throughout that year in order to attend all my classes and handle my study load."

The witch made another note on the parchment.

"What are you feelings pertaining to marriage, Miss Granger?" she was asked next.

Hermione frowned again. "I don't know. I expect it's something I'll do eventually, with the right person."

"When you envision your future, are children a part of that plan, Miss Granger?"

Hermione wanted to snatch the clipboard from the woman and figure out what the questions were all about.

"Yes. Eventually," she said instead.

"How many children do you envision yourself having in the future, Miss Granger?"

Hermione scowled at the question.

"Maybe three," she sighed, knowing that getting angry and making a scene would do her no good. The Ministry had been doing all manner of odd things recently in its attempts to further hide from the truth about Voldemort.

"Would you be willing to compromise on that number?" the Ministry witch asked.

"I suppose." Hermione shrugged. "Is this going to take much longer?"

"No," the woman shook her head. "I only have one more question."

Hermione sighed. "Fine, ask it."

"If you were to find the right wizard who met your criteria," the woman said. "Would you care if he had a criminal history or had made poor decisions in the past?"

"Not if he'd changed his ways," Hermione frowned, thinking of Professor Snape, who had undoubtedly done bad things before joining the Order. Thinking of Sirius who had a criminal record and was technically still on the run, but who was a good man nonetheless.

"Excellent," the witch hummed, looking pleased. "Thank you for your time, Miss Granger. The Ministry will be in touch with you regarding your answers here today should there be anything further we need to clarify with you."

Hermione's frown deepened in confusion as she was ushered out the door.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

"Oi, Moony?" Sirius Black called to the werewolf he shared a home with inside of Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

"Yeah?" Remus Lupin asked, sounding slightly stunned where he stood in the kitchen with a letter clutched loosely in one hand.

"You had an owl this morning?" Sirius asked.

"Yep," Moony said, his voice constricted slightly.

"From the Ministry?" Sirius asked. "I think Kingsley must be having me on in some stupid attempt at a joke."

"You got one too?" Remus asked, swivelling to face Sirius, his brow furrowed deeply in concern.

"One what? A letter from the Ministry?" Sirius clarified. "Yeah. Why? You too?"

Moony nodded mutely.

"What does it say?" Sirius asked his best mate worriedly.

"It says…. The Ministry has instigated some kind of law that means…"

"Limerence Laws," Sirius nodded, his gut clenching tightly.

"Means…. All that testing they were doing, summoning able-bodied witches who are of age…" Remus said, his green eyes wide and shot through with the gold of the wolf. "They were matching…."

"Matching?" Sirius frowned. "This isn't a fucking _match_ , Remus. This is a fucking ordinance that I'm to be bloody married."

Remus nodded. "Mine says that too. Must be married within the week."

"It's a fucking joke!" Sirius snarled. "I won't fucking go through with it… this is bullshit. I don't know what they were doing, but this isn't a 'match'. What does yours say? Who do they think you should marry?"

Remus blinked at him, his body beginning to trembled as the rage of his alter-ego fought to break free, to take over and protect them from the deemed threat of the letter's contents.

"It says… Sirius… have I ever seemed… bisexual… to you?"

"You realise you're asking the only bloke you've ever snogged, yeah?" Sirius asked, some of his anger and confusion fading at the way Remus looked so lost. "Your letter say you've got to marry two people? A witch and another wizard?"

Remus nodded mutely.

"Yours too?" he asked hopefully.

Sirius nodded.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Severus Snape stared at the letter he'd just received, stamped with the Ministry emblem and signed by the Minister for Magic himself. A joke. Surely it was a joke done in extremely poor taste?

There could be no other explanation.

Glancing down the table, Severus spotted Albus clutching a similar letter in a hand that trembled very faintly. To the untrained eye, the grandfatherly persona of the Headmaster seemed undisturbed. But Severus Snape had a very well trained eye to spot weakness and Albus Dumbledore was showing it right in that moment. Weakness and disgust and fear.

"What is the meaning of this?" Rolanda Hooch snarled, scrunching a letter of her own, her hazel eye narrowed hatefully. "Who the ruddy hell sent this bollocks? I won't go through with it! Fucking disgusting! Albus? What is the meaning of this?"

Severus would very much like to know the answer to that himself.

Because he most certainly was _not_ amused. This was no laughing matter. An ordinance – a command, even - issued by the Ministry that he was to be married within the week. As though that thought weren't insulting enough in itself, the sight of the two names listed side by side upon the parchment were enough to make his temper flare.

Disgusting was an apt description. Abominable was another. Detestable, still another.

"The meaning, Rolanda," Albus said in his soft-spoken voice that Severus knew so intimately meant he was bordering on losing his own formidable temper. "Is that the Ministry has issued every able bodied witch and wizard with an edict to be married."

"I won't do it!" Rolanda declared. "Two, Albus! Two! They expect me to marry two wizards! At the same time! It's ridiculous! Outrageous. Disgusting, even! I won't stand for it! What could possibly possess them to think that they can tell me who to marry! Two! This is offensive!"

"It would seem," Albus went on calmly, though a hint of a steely edge crept into his tone. "That the Ministry had decreed that due to the ever-aging population and the propensity within wizarding society for boys being born more prevalently than girls, that in order to fix the problem, every able bodied witch is to marry and reproduce with two wizards. She is to take both husbands' names and each child born to the union is to be DNA tested and given the surname of whomever amid the triad happens to be his or her father."

Severus felt sick.

"At least one child must be born of the husbands'," Albus went on. "Essentially, the Ministry is seeking to play Merlin, matching us all up lest certain names and certain families die out. With the recent expungance of the McKinnon, Prewett, Shafiq and Hennings lines, I expected the Ministry has taken action to ensure that the wizarding population will be replenished and no further linages will be allowed to die out."

"And if we don't consent to it?" Aurora Sinistra asked, tight lipped.

"That's in the fine print at the bottom," Albus said, his knuckles going white as he gripped his own letter so hard that it began to smoulder with barely restrained magical rage. "As you can see, ladies, each of you has been sent the trio of Ministry-issue rings to complete the ritual. As I understand it, they monitor sexual activity between spouses to ensure their decrees are being met – once per week with the witch in question, excluding the menses week each month. If anyone should choose to refuse the ordinance, they will tracked down via the Trace office at the Ministry, be stripped of their magic and have their wand snapped, immediately. Everyone has until a week from now to locate and wed their decreed spouses or they will cease to belong to the magical community."

Albus's letter went up in flames as he spoke the last word and Severus felt his own rage begin to boil. Throughout the hall, those students of sixth and seventh year who were of age within the magical world were receiving their own letters of condemnation.

"This can't be allowed to occur, Albus," Pomona protested. "Some of these matches are… I, well, Albus, I've been matched with a student!"

Severus's insides twisted painfully to learn he wasn't the only one.

"As have I," he inserted smoothly, causing Minerva McGonagall and Septima Vector – whom were sitting either side of him – to shoot sharp, cautious glances at him.

"With students?" Albus repeated, looking shocked out of his rage for a moment, struck utterly dumb at the very idea.

"Students!" Pomona hissed. "Look at this! I've been matched with Quintus Mulciber – he graduated almost ten years ago – and with… Gregory Goyle."

Severus felt his lip curl, his mind's eye calling forth both wizards and finding a number of similarities in both their personalities and their builds.

"Mulciber and Goyle," Minerva asked. "You're sure, Pomona? Those two are…."

"Eerily similar," Severus finished for her. "Suggesting the Limerence of these Limerence Laws is based upon the witch in question having a particular 'type'."

"Students?" Albus asked again, his blue eyes losing their ever-present twinkle.

Severus might have smirked to see the old bastard so incensed that he lost that fucking twinkle – he had, until this moment, prided himself on being one of the few able to make that twinkle vanish – if not for the burning feel of bile threatening to rise within his stomach of the notion of marrying the witch and wizard he'd been 'matched' with.

"Who among you have been matched with a current student residing within Hogwarts?" Albus asked, glancing along the table at his staff members.

"I have, obviously," Pomona huffed.

"I have too," Aurora murmured, staring out across the hall, her eyes fixed on one wizard in particular.

Severus followed her gaze, singling out the sight of Tobias Entwhistle, who seemed to be dealing with the news within his own letter by turning to his fellow Ravenclaws and debating the merit of the law.

"And I have," Severus said quietly, allowing his eyes to sweep over the hall, intent on find the student with whom he had been 'matched'.

His black eyes narrowed when they landed on her, finding her sitting at the Gryffindor table and peeling open her own letter of condemnation with a frown marring her brow.

"Severus?" Albus asked, his blue eyes narrowing as he followed Severus's gaze to the witch in question. "No. This can't be… who else, Severus?" Albus demanded, reaching over Minerva where she sat beside him – her letter bearing the names Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, ironically enough – to take the smouldering letter from Severus's hands.

Severus heard Minerva gasp when Albus pried the letter from Severus's fingers and pulled it closer to better read it.

"No. It can't be," Minerva whispered. "They can't… surely, they won't, Albus."

"This cannot be correct," Albus said, his voice lowering, heading towards dangerous territory that meant he was rapidly losing his temper.

The crockery and the silver-wear within the hall began to shudder and shake upon the High Table and then out across the hall, causing many of the students to look up in alarm. The sky outside the castle, visible through the enchanted ceiling, turned a wretched shade of black, thunder and lightning booming and cracking loud enough that many of the junior students – unaware of the ordinance – began to scream in terror.

Severus couldn't truly say who was responsible for the violent surges of magic that made every witch and wizard's hair stand on end within the Great Hall. He didn't know if it stemmed from his own fizzing and festering rage and hatred, or if it stemmed from Albus's fury, but it rocked the very foundations of the castle.

"I'll kill him," Severus snarled, already shooting to his feet and snatching his letter back from the Headmaster. "I'll murder him now and save myself the hassle later."

"Severus, you can't!" Minerva clutched his arm – every hair on her head suddenly standing at attention and looking most alarming indeed. "It's in the by-law. If you attempt to harm either spouse you've been matched with, you'll be struck dead."

"That would be preferable, Minerva!" Severus growled at the witch, his eyes swivelling once more to land on the witch whose 'type' had landed him in this wretched mess.

The girl looked up just in time to see Severus's letter go up in flames before he spun on is heel, jerking himself free of Minerva as he did so, and stalked away with a billow of black robes.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The pit in Hermione's stomach – she had been certain – couldn't have opened any wider when she saw the decree and the names of the two wizards she was expected to marry. But that was before she saw the hatred glittering in his eyes. Before she saw the disgust on his less-than-handsome face.

"Hermione…?" Harry asked, sounding as though he were adrift in a sea of confusion, unable to make sense of the letter dangling limply in his hold.

"What does it mean?" Ron asked. "I have to marry another bloke along with a witch? What?"

Hermione blinked, feeling bile rise in her stomach, not of disgust, but of fear. She nodded mutely, pressing a hand to her throat, trying to convince the vomit not to pass her oesophagus.

"But I don't like blokes?" Ron said, still frowning. "Harry, who'd you get? Are your paired with a witch and another bloke?"

"Yeah," Harry muttered. "I'm with… bloody hell, this is twisted…."

"Who did you get, Harry?" Ron asked, his voice tightening.

"Remus," Harry said quietly. "Remus and… Tonks."

"What, really?" Ron frowned, looking shocked by the idea.

"That's what my letter says," Harry nodded. "Bloody hell. Remus hates Tonks…."

"He does not," Ginny swatted Harry's arm.

"He does," Harry assured her. "He's told me. Her crush on him makes him extremely uncomfortable. Who'd you get, Ron?"

"Erm…" Ron muttered. "Oliver Wood and uh… Katie Bell."

"I don't get it," Ginny said, quietly. "They're called Limerence Laws, right? That means it's got to do with infatuation. And since we witches were quizzed by the Ministry and you boys weren't, it would suggest that we witches are the ones who contributed to the 'infatuation', in other words, the type of wizard we project the most interest in. So how the hell did I get landed with these two?"

Hermione tore her eyes from her own parchment.

"Who did you get?" Harry asked, curiously. "Kind of always figured if I had to marry anyone it would be you…"

"That's what I figured too," Ginny nodded, staring into her ex-boyfriend's eyes for a long moment. "But I got… well, look for yourself. I'm really hoping that I'm seeing things."

Hermione peered at the parchment as Harry took it and read it. Her brow furrowed in sympathy and concern.

"Lee Jordan and Blaise Zabini," Harry read aloud, sensing Ron's paranoia. "You've got a type for dark-skinned wizards with a wicked sense of humour, apparently."

"Except I… I've never been that attracted to either of them… I've always just drooled after you, Harry," Ginny frowned.

"The questions they asked at the Ministry required that we list traits we found attractive," Hermione said slowly, traits more so than attributes. "What did you say?"

"Handsome. Witty. Driven. Intense. A bit sassy," Ginny frowned.

"Did they ask if you like any particular attributes?" Harry asked.

"Only what colour hair I liked," Ginny admitted. "I said black. I said all of these things with you in mind."

"And landed with those two," Harry said. "Weird. But then, I don't have that many overlapping attributes with Remus."

"You both have green eyes," Ginny pointed out. "You both come from broken families with unhappy childhoods. You're both intense. And sassy. Merlin knows Remus is sassy."

"But he has sandy hair and he's taller than me," Harry pointed out.

"You've both got significant scars too," Ron pointed out tactlessly. "You from the curse, and Remus from… well, his curse, I guess. Maybe Tonks has a thing for green-eyed, scar-ridden, sass-spouters."

"Sass-spouters? Really?" Harry asked, his voice extremely sassy as he raised one eyebrow at Ron sceptically.

"It's now a thing," Ron nodded. "Besides, I look nothing like Oliver and I got paired with him and Katie. How do you figure that one happened?"

"You're both Keepers. Intense Quidditch nuts. Prone to forgetting tact when there Quidditch matters at hand. Obviously Katie is still Quidditch crazy and has a thing for Keepers," Ginny commented, waving a dismissive hand at her brother.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, turning to her as though finally noticing how silent she'd been. "Bloody hell, 'Mione, you're white as a sheet. Who've they matched you up with?"

Hermione's hands were trembling as she clutched the trio of silver rings in one hand, vaguely noticing the aesthetic designs upon them while her letter was partially crumpled in her other hand. She'd watched the way he'd glared at her before leaving the hall. She'd watched the way he'd set his letter on fire and made the whole Hall tremble and quake with his rage. She'd seen the utter loathing in his eyes and she knew that in that moment, he hated her even more than he hated the second man to whom she'd been matched.

"I… erm…." Hermione said, her voice cracking in her utter terror over the idea of marrying to two wizard that her infatuation had decreed would be best suited to her.

"Who is it?" Ron demanded. "Someone awful? Bloody hell, it's not Malfoy, is it?"

"No," Hermione whispered. "No it's…."

She handed her letter carefully to Harry, watching him take it and watching his green eyes widen in horror before he looked up at her. She knew as she watched him that he'd had the same thought she had. They were going to kill each other. Sirius Black and Severus Snape were going to murder each other.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR NOTE:** Holy Guacamole! I was not expecting the amount of response to this fic when I posted chapter one! LOL. I'm seriously so thrilled that so many of you are interested in reading this one =) I can't wait to see what you make of what I have planned for this story. Also, for those few of you rolling your eyes at the idea of me beginning ANOTHER new story when I have so many incomplete ones; No one said that you had to read it. I go where the muse takes me and right now my muse is all about Severus. And honestly, if you know how many stories I have squirrelled away on my computer and not shared for the reason that you'll all cry foul, you'd be grateful I've only posted one new one this week instead of 20.

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A HUGE HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY SHOUT OUT TO ALL OF MY DEVOTED READERS. I LOVE YOU ALL!

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

* * *

Severus exploded into his private quarters snarling every expletive he knew. His magic was crackling and snapping furiously in the air, making the flames in the fireplace leap and burning the candles high enough that the wax poured down the edges rapidly.

Hermione fucking Granger and Sirius fucking Black!

He was expected to marry his most annoying student and his most loathed childhood tormenter. He had to put down his wand to keep from destroying all of his personal possession in a fit of rage. He hadn't been this angry in a long time. Not since he'd heard Black had escaped Azkaban. Not since the Dark Lord had broken his word and murdered Lily Evans after expressly promising Severus that he would spare her. Not since he'd learned it had been Pettigrew, the snivelling cunt of a rat, who was truly responsible for selling Lily out to the Dark Lord in the first place.

Running his fingers through his greasy hair and cursing foully when they tangled in the wretched locks, Severus tried to think about this logically. He tried to talk himself out of the rage that found him picking up his liquor decanter – rarely touched except on nights when it took away the ache of suffering the Cruciatus curse and dulled the wretched emptiness inside his chest – and began downing the liquid in one. It burned his throat going down but even the early hour of the morning – not yet nine – did nothing to cease Severus's actions as he drank deeply of the finely brewed and well-aged liquor.

He wanted to murder both of them. He almost wanted to turn his wand on himself. Circe's cunt, at this point he'd even welcome the idea of being stripped of his magic and left a bereft as pathetic muggle, barely living. It couldn't be worse than marrying Granger and Black.

 _Black_! Of all fucking people.

Severus didn't need to be a genius to figure out the common traits between himself and his loathed nemesis. Long dark hair, intense personalities, quick wit and a similar build told tales of Miss Granger's tastes, though how anyone could even begin to compare the two of them beyond similar hairstyles and body-types was beyond Severus. He was learned, volatile, intellectual and dark. Black was the opposite. He'd never applied himself to study. He was easy-going, fun-loving, more prone to goofing off and wasting time that to engaging in intellectual debate.

They were complete opposites in every way. Clearly Miss Granger had proven herself no better than her empty-headed classmates and only sought infatuation amid the shallowest of pools. Severus was not fool enough to think that he and Black were even similar in appearance beyond both having long black hair. Severus was entirely aware of the misfortune that was his nose and the crooked, yellowed squares that were his teeth. He was completely aware that no matter how frequently he washed it, his hair was usually greasy again by the end of the day as a result of spending all his time in Potions classrooms and his own private lab where the fumes undid any effort to keep it grease-free.

He was, in a word, unappealing. In both personality and appearance. No matter how Miss Lovegood liked to insist he was striking.

Black, on the other hand.

Well, even Severus was man enough to admit that, nemesis or not, the man possessed a certain soigné. Angular features cut from pure marble, silky flowing locks of raven and those wretched Black-bloodline eyes of silver gave way to making the man one of the handsomest to have ever walked the halls of Hogwarts. Azkaban may have dulled his physical appeal, somewhat, but it still remained with higher proclivity than Severus himself had ever possessed. Black didn't have a hooked slash for a nose, or crooked teeth or a sneer that could curdle milk. Something he'd seen fit to rub in, often, during their youth.

No, Black was all easy charm and good looks where Severus had always been cold wit and sneering expressions. They had _nothing_ in common. Moreover, Black was a wretch and Severus would happily commit murder to be rid of the mangy cur. He was also a complication. Secreted away in the hovel masquerading for Headquarters and bitching about his continued incarceration, Black was a nuisance during the Order meetings Severus was forced to attend, and little more. If, however, Severus was expected to marry both Black and Granger, they would also be expected to share a marital 'home'.

And since Severus himself was a Professor and Miss Granger was a still a student, it stood to reason that to meet the ordinance, Black would be required move in with Severus himself. Were it simply a requirement towards dwelling, Severus might have coped. After all, unpleasant as they may have been, he'd survived seven years of sharing this castle and its corridors with Sirius bloody Black. He could've handled stuffing Black away in some forgotten tower. Without a need to attend classes, the mutt wouldn't even be a bother in the halls. He couldn't move about freely without stirring the masses to reporting his location.

Severus curled his lip when his mind poked a hole in that sound plot.

They were expected to share quarters and share a wife. Miss Granger. And it wouldn't do to have her catting back and forth across the castle to fuck either one of her husbands, and sweet Circe's _cunt_! He was going to have to _fuck_ the little bitch!

The decanter Severus was still drinking from as his thoughts raced shattered in his grip, showering him in slivers of glass and fire-whiskey.

No.

He wouldn't.

He couldn't.

It was wrong. It was disgusting. It was…

Severus clenched the shards of glass from the decanter when his traitorous thoughts landed on one word he had never thought in relation to any woman before.

 _Ensnaring_.

Blood dripped from his fingers and pitter-pattered upon the cold stone floor of his private chambers as Severus Snape realised that with one letter of condemnation, the Ministry of Magic had done what no witch had ever achieved; made him think of one of his students in any manner beyond a dunderheaded inconvenience.

The sound of knocking on the door to his private chambers drew his attention and Severus briefly considered committing irusu. He was in no mood for company, pleasant or otherwise, lest he unleash his rage and murder someone. And he had a wretched sinking feeling in his gut that he knew which someone it would be that would dare to knock on his door when such an edict had been delivered on this dreadful morning.

Waving his wand to remove the shards of glass and splashes of alcohol from his person, Severus stalked to the door and snatched it open with a snarl.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Hermione fought the urge to take a big step back from the Professor when he snatched open the door, a hateful sneer in place upon his lips as he laid eyes on her. Her eyes darted to the fact that his hand was dripping blood on the floor where he stood, seeping from between the fingers of his clenched fist.

"Potter?" he snarled, his eyes scanning over Hermione hatefully before darting to the wizard standing behind her.

"Professor," Harry replied, his voice barely containing his hostility towards the man before Hermione. The man she'd been ordered to _marry_ within the week.

"What's the matter, Miss Granger?" Snape sneered icily. "Too afraid to come to you intended husband unaccompanied?"

Hermione felt the first prickle of anger slide through her veins, heady and thick like the whiskey she could smell on his breath.

"Harry is here to make use of your Floo," Hermione retorted coldly, squaring her shoulders and staring down the furious wizard before her. "He was matched to Remus and Tonks. Since you and I will be needing to make a trip to Headquarters, I invited Harry to join us as I do not doubt that Tonks will make for Headquarters as soon as she receives her own letter from the Ministry."

"You imagine you can help yourself to my private quarters whenever you please? Inviting guests?" Snape asked, his voice loweringly to a deceptively silken purr that made every hair upon her body stand on end.

"I imagined you would be mature enough to recognise the sense of the idea," Hermione replied, refusing to be cowed, even if she did watch his lip curl further in a triumphant sneer at the sight of her goose-bumps.

She could tell it was her implication that he would be acting childishly to refuse them entrance and use of his fireplace that convinced him to let them in. Stepping back in the doorway, he made just enough room for her to squeeze past and Hermione felt her heart race in fear over the idea of entering Snape's private sanctum. Something he was obviously banking on when his lips twitched toward a cold smirk. Narrowing her eyes on the man, Hermione bit the bullet and slid past him, having no choice but to brush against the front of his dark teaching robes as she did so.

Harry followed her, being granted slightly more space, though Hermione suspected that was born of Snape's desire to avoid touching Harry, rather than any real courtesy. Hermione watched enviously as Harry made directly for the fireplace, not even bothering to take in his surroundings within the Potion Master's dungeon chambers. He found the small pot filled with Floo powder, scooped out a pinch of it, stepped into the flames and disappeared in a roar of green.

Hermione made to follow him but before she could, Snape's hand shot out to prevent her front taking a step forwards. Darting her gaze over her shoulder to find out why he was restraining her, Hermione met his fathomless gaze for a long moment, holding her breath as she waited to see what he wanted. She blinked when, with his bloodied hand, he pointed toward the shattered remains of a liquor decanter on the floor, right where she'd been about to step.

"Professor?" Hermione asked in a small voice when he released her to flick his wand at the glass and repair it.

"Miss Granger, given the circumstances, your continued use of that address hardly seems appropriate," he informed her coolly, turning cold eyes on her.

"I… erm… yes, I suppose you're right," Hermione stammered, blinking at the bluntness of his statement. "What… erm… what would you prefer to have me call you then, sir?"

"Not 'sir' either, witch," he muttered. "It's bad enough being aware of your immaturity without being reminded that until this morning, you were a student within my classroom."

Hermione nodded, her cheeks flaming.

"You are aware, I suppose, that this turn of events – this match – is entirely your fault?" he clarified before giving her anything more appropriate to call him. Hermione doubted very much that, even with permission, she would ever be comfortable calling him Severus.

"I…" Hermione blinked again, her cheeks growing impossibly hotter. "I erm… I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Clearly!" he retorted coldly, staring her down until Hermione felt forced to divert her gaze.

She glanced around his quarters curiously, noticing that they had obviously been decorated with one thing in mind. Practicality. Every wall was covered, floor to ceiling, with shelves containing potions ingredients, books, and potions equipment. The small bed inside the bedroom through a door off what she supposed was meant to be a sitting room, was cramped and looked like it would barely contain the Professor by himself, let alone anyone else.

"I do hope my chambers are to your liking, Miss Granger," he sneered, obviously noticing her scrutiny.

"I erm… why?" Hermione frowned, returning her gaze to his.

"As of the date we are married, they will also become _your_ chambers, witch."

Hermione felt like she might throw up. The bile rose again and she clutched at her throat, making a vague choking sound as she tried to fight down the vomit. She would be expected to live with him. Him _and_ Sirius. Dear Thanatos, she was _doomed_. Two extremely volatile wizards who loathed each other sharing one small space? She might as well hex herself now to save them the trouble when she was caught in the crossfire later.

"Ah, hadn't thought that far ahead, then?" Snape's laugh was cold and cruel.

Hermione hated the sound of it. In fact, the very sound of his laughter made her want to curl into a ball and cry. This was not at all what she imagined when she'd pictured herself looking at her future husband.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Sirius looked up from the bottle of whiskey at the sound of the Floo roaring to life. He trained his wand in that direction until he recognised the sight of his godson stepping out of it looking rather shell-shocked.

"Pup?" Sirius asked, shooting to his feet and moving to embrace the kid as Harry stumbled out of the fireplace.

"Sirius!" Harry greeted him, hugging him tightly in return

Sirius felt the tension in the air spike as he let Harry go again and glanced at Remus where he stood, rooted of the spot, staring wide-eyed at Harry as though he'd made to automatically hug the kid before recalling they'd been ordered to marry. Another reason Sirius was more than halfway through his first bottle of firewhiskey for the day.

"Remus?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed slightly as he moved toward the werewolf slowly. "You alright, mate?"

"Are you?" Remus asked, his brow furrowed in a line of pained confusion as he stared at the kid, so like James, yet so different from him too.

"Fucking furious!" Harry replied. "The Ministry are bang, out of order with this bullshit! I mean, pairing Hermione and Sirius with Snape? That's fuckin' twisted."

Sirius watched Remus's expression twist slightly at Harry words and smirked to himself for a moment, pleased to be proved right. He'd been assuring Remus since they'd opened their letters that Harry wouldn't care one way or the other that Remus was a werewolf.

"You're not angry that you've been matched with Tonks… with me?" Remus asked carefully.

"Why would I be angry?" Harry scoffed. "Tonks is great, and you're a great bloody git, but I'm used to you. Better than what poor Padfoot got himself landed with. Oi, you going to stand there like a statue all day or are you going to hug me?"

Remus looked beyond confused when Harry closed the distance between the two of them, wrapped his arms around Remus's torso and slapped him on the back good naturedly. Sirius began to laugh before handing his bottle of whiskey to Harry and watching the lad drink from it deeply, skolling the liquid inside until only a quarter of the bottle remained.

"Fuck! That shit burns!" Harry cursed again. "I don't know how you drink it, Pads."

"Harry, you do realise that by the end of the week you'll be my _husband_ , don't you?" Remus asked, Moony peeking out of his eyes as man and wolf regarded the teenaged wizard.

"Hardly the time for getting awkward about hugs then, is it?" Harry smirked at the werewolf. "Oi, you heard from Tonks? She's going to laugh her arse off when she hears about this."

"I…" Remus shook his head. "No, not yet. Though I anticipate a lot of screaming when she arrives."

"You've got to do something about your mother's portrait Sirius," Harry agreed, frowning a bit and obviously thinking that Remus meant only the portrait and not Tonks. "Oh, and you better watch yourself, mate. Pretty sure Hermione and Snape are on their way through as well and he's beyond furious. Set his letter on fire and nearly caused an earthquake in the Great Hall when he got the news."

"Bloody hell!" Sirius groaned. "I'm not in the mood to see Snivellus again so soon."

"You realise that he'll be your husband and that if you keep calling him that, poor Hermione will be a widow before the month is out, yeah?" Remus asked gruffly, drinking deeply from his whiskey bottle until it was empty and not even looking rattled.

The perks of lycanthropy.

"Don't bloody remind me," Sirius groaned, also necking what was left in his bottle before reaching for the crate of them he'd hauled up out of the cellar.

He passed a bottle to Remus and another to Harry before cracking a third open for himself.

"How's Hermione taking the news?" Sirius asked of his godson.

"She…" Harry frowned. "She's terrified, I think. You and Snape in the same living space? The same marital bond? Pretty sure she's mentally drafting her will and testament as we speak. If you and the greasy git don't kill her for the 'infatuation' that landed you lot in this mess with her together in the first place, I'm pretty sure she's terrified you'll try to kill each other and she'll be caught in the crossfire."

"Fuck," Sirius sighed. "You saw that bit, eh? About the living quarters bullshit."

"Ginny pointed it out," Harry nodded, "We're all supposed to sharing living quarters with our new spouses. Actually, Moony, I need to talk to you about that."

"You lot can all move in here," Sirius offered. "There's plenty of room. And I'm less likely to murder Snivellus with you and Moony around, Pup."

"Except that I have school. Hermione has school. And Snape's got to teach," Harry pointed out. "Makes more sense for you to move there."

"Oi, that's bang out of order. He can't expect her to sit in his fucking classroom and be screamed at in front of everyone if she messes up at Potions," Sirius exclaimed, ignoring mention of him having to move to be closer to Hermione and Snivellus, outraged suddenly when he recalled that despite her academic brilliance, Snape was technically Hermione's teacher.

"Hermione's never been screamed at, in any class." Harry rolled his eyes. "But I don't reckon it will go down real well to have her continue to be a student while he's still a teacher. Good grades all her life or not, Hermione's reputation will be tarnished if they think she's fucking her teacher for her grades. And according to these stupid laws, she's got to fuck him."

"Ah, shit," Sirius put his head in hands. "She's your age, Pup. And _I_ have to fuck her too."

"At least you don't have to fuck Harry, Pads, shut your hole!" Moony growled irritably, the approaching full moon combining with his bad mood over the news to make his touchy about everything.

"Hey, now! I don't care how much Tonks begs, you and I don't fuck, Moony." Harry waggled a finger between the two of them. "I'll fuck her _with_ you, and I'll even snog you, if you're into that, but if you put your cock anywhere near my arse, I'm going to cut it off and beat you with it."

Remus choked on his swig of whiskey and spluttered at Harry, wide-eyed for his blunt approach to the subject.

"Bloody hell, Pup!" Sirius laughed. "I didn't know you swung that way."

"I don't, really," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Figured you two did, actually?"

He quirked an eyebrow at the pair of them from behind his glasses and Sirius began to roar with laughter.

"You think we're getting drunk to drown the sorrow of our forced break-up?" Remus asked, smirking just a bit as he tried not to laugh.

"Dunno," Harry admitted. "You're pretty close, so I figured you must be a couple."

"You and Ron are close," Sirius argued. "Are you a couple?"

"No. But I've never woken up nakedly spooning Ron, either. Which I know you two have done, countless times, with each other," Harry pointed out, drinking deeply form his own bottle too.

"After full moons," Sirius waved a dismissive hand at his godson. "And when we get drunk it doesn't count."

"I've heard that excuse before," Harry smirked, winking at Remus and bouncing his eyebrows suggestively in a way that made Sirius laugh even more

"When we get drunk he crawls into next to me because he's afraid of the dark," Remus corrected, smirking at him. "I can't wait to hear the story about when he tries to do it to Snivellus."

"Urgh, I'd never spoon Snivellus. Sharing quarters will be hard enough. I won't be sharing his fuckin' bed."

"You might not have a choice," Harry argued. "Rules say they monitor through the rings how often we all fuck. Might get in trouble if you're not sharing a bed too… So you two aren't bent for each other?"

"Nah." Sirius laughed. "We've snogged but it never went any further."

"I ran when he got tricky with his tongue," Remus admitted, laughing. "So don't worry Harry, I have no plans of bending you over and fucking you."

"Not that you're any keener of doing it to Tonks," Harry smirked. "How's that going to play out, Moony?"

Remus groaned and began necking another bottle at the reminder of the third part of his marriage equation. Harry watched with appreciation as the werewolf chugged the bottle until it was gone.

"How many of them has he had?" Harry asked of Sirius watching the way Moony reached for a fourth without looking even a bit drunk.

"When he cracks that bottle, it'll be his fourth. By himself," Sirius grinned.

"It's not even ten o'clock yet," Harry said, his eyes widening.

"Don't you go whining like you're the wife in the equation, Pup," Remus growled as he cracked open the fourth bottle of whiskey. "Leave the bitching to Tonks, yeah?"

Sirius was still laughing at the way Harry flipped Remus the forks when the Floo roared to life once more.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm super pleased that so many of you are reading and reviewing this one. A special thanks to all of you for your encouragement that I keep writing because you'll read it all, no matter what. Makes me all gooey inside with joy. Much love! xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE**

* * *

Hermione blinked at Severus Snape carefully, waiting to see what he had to say since he had refused to let her travel through the Floo after Harry so that she could see Sirius and try to sort all this mess out. Not that she was particularly looking forward to the idea of having both volatile wizards in the same room at the same time. That would surely spell a death sentence for at least one of them – most likely her.

"Miss Granger, how exactly do you envision this ridiculous little law is going to play out?" Snape purred at her, his voice low and silky in a way that made the hairs on her arms prickle uncomfortably. That was the voice he most often used in the classroom when he was baiting a student, just waiting to lure them further into the own stupidity and allowing them to dig their own grave.

"I… didn't we agree it would no longer be appropriate for you to refer to me in that manner?" Hermione asked, thinking fast and trying to figure out some way to avoid having all of the blame heaped upon her.

Snape curled his top lip at her ever so slightly.

"And what, pray tell, would you prefer to be referred as from now on, witch?"

"My name will do," Hermione said. "Feel free to call me Hermione."

He narrowed his eyes on her,

"Answer my question, _Hermione_." His voice dripped scorn over her name as it rolled off his tongue like pure arsenic.

Hermione sighed, moving away from the fireplace – which she'd been hovering in front of as though she might be able to make a quick getaway should he be horrible to her – and dropped into one of the armchairs by the fire. Snape curled his lip at the way she didn't ask his permission or wait for an invitation before sitting, but Hermione was more than prepared to remind him of his comment about how they would also be her quarters now too. Glancing around, Hermione made a mental note that she would be changing a few things. Running a hand through her unruly curls, Hermine tried to gather her thoughts.

"I honestly have no idea how it will go. I imagine you and Sirius will try to kill one another," Hermione told him seriously, looking up to meet his gaze and having to squint thanks to the poor lighting in the dungeon chamber.

" _Ob-viously_." Snape curled his lip at her as he drawled that one word, breaking it into two to further enunciate her stupidity. "However, I was referring to the small matter of your continued education."

"My education?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes, you see it may have escaped your notice, _Hermione_ , but you are still a student and I," he stepped a little closer to her chair until the light from the fireplace illuminated his formidable form from amid the shadows. "Am still very much a Professor; one who has been teaching you since you were eleven. Pray, tell me what you think will happen with the instigation of these Limerence Laws."

"You think that the Ministry will make a big deal over me being a student when you're a teacher?" Hermione frowned. "If they have a problem with it, they can take it up with their marriage department or whoever matched the three of us together. If they made the mistake of putting a student with a teacher, they can deal with the fallout of that mistake."

Snape's lips curled into a cruel smile for a short moment.

"You are forgetting that wedded bliss is _not_ in your future if you truly wish to continue to sit as a student within my class once you are my wife, Miss Granger," Snape pointed out in a low, dangerous sort of whisper that made Hermione shiver.

She hadn't thought of that.

"Right." Hermione frowned further, her cheeks blushing at the way he spoke the words 'my wife' as though it uttering some Volkon curse. "Well, erm, I suppose there is always the chance that I could take my Potions NEWT early. I'm ahead of the curriculum in my studies. I could sit it, if I have to, though I'd prefer to wait until the end of the year like everyone else."

"I have seen your essays, Miss Granger. You are not ready to sit the exam," he told her bluntly.

"Well, the only other option is that you tutor me privately," Hermione informed him, snapping slightly as her eyes flushed in annoyance. "I'm not dropping the subject."

Snape curled his lip at her for her tone, looking like he'd very much like to dock points for her cheek, but refraining.

"Besides, I think we have a bigger problem to discuss than the fact that I want to complete my studies and might have trouble doing so if you are my husband in addition to my professor," Hermione sighed. "The letter says that the rings I was sent will monitor sexual activity. I'd be willing to bet they also monitor location. And given that the Ministry still believes that Sirius is a mass murderer and you are suspected of Death Eater ties that we both know you do, indeed, have; I would think it rather more prudent to figure out how we are going to get away with this without them finding Sirius and without exposing you for a criminal as well. Professor Dumbledore's influence only goes so far – or so I'm told – and so it would seem that we have something of a conundrum on our hands."

"I hardly care if Black is found and hauled back to Azkaban." Snape shrugged his shoulders, crossing the room to one of his many shelves and beginning to search the drawers for something.

"You say that now, sir," Hermione said quietly. "But should you be caught returning from a Death Eater meeting, I think you would also be thrown in prison. And while I would rather happily be husband-free if you were both in prison, I don't tend to wish such wretched punishments on innocent men."

"You would do well to remember, _Hermione_ , that neither Black nor I are all that innocent," Snape informed her coldly. Hermione narrowed her eyes on him.

"Be that as it may, the fact remains that were they to catch Sirius and not you, well, you'd be stuck with just me, Professor Snape," Hermione said quietly. "And while you may have burned your letter in a fit of rage, I have had the chance to read mine very carefully. Do you really want to be left alone with just me, forced by law to have sex with me and interact with me and share my bed? Just you and me?"

"As opposed to having my hated childhood nemesis there, too?" he scoffed. "Distasteful as I do not doubt such things will be for both of us, Miss Granger, I think you will find that I am slightly more pleasant to deal with when Sirius Black is not constantly ridiculing me or annoying me with his general existence."

"Perhaps you do not grasp the concept that I am a hormonal, emotional teenage girl who will no longer be forced to bow to your whim as you will no longer hold any authority over me, Professor." Hermione's tone was saccharine. "But while I assure you that your formidable temper is noted, I will remind you that you are not the only one within this marriage equation prone to violent outbursts of fury."

He glanced at her sharply as Hermione crossed one leg over the other and peered at him carefully, awaiting his reaction to that little nugget of information.

"Dobby?" Hermione called when Snape didn't speak again.

The elf appeared with a soft pop, looking alarmed to find Hermione in Snape's quarters.

"Miss Hermione?" Dobby asked carefully, glancing worriedly at Snape before meeting her gaze.

"Could you bring a pot of tea please?" Hermione asked the elf. "And three cups."

"Of course, Miss Hermione," Dobby nodded, bowing before he disappeared once more.

"You're ordering tea to my quarters?" Snape sneered.

"Oh," Hermione let a cruel smirk crawl across her face just as the Floo suddenly roared to life. "But Professor, I thought you said that by the end of the week, they would also be _my_ quarters."

Snape was scowling at her fiercely as Sirius Black climbed out of the fireplace.

"Sirius?" Hermione asked, smiling slightly and getting to her feet before realising that he might be just as angry with her over this as Snape was.

"Hey 'Mione, love," Sirius smirked at her, fishing a bottle of whiskey – unopened – from inside the pocket of his robes and pressing it into her hands as he crossed the floor to where she stood. He drew her into a one armed hug and dropped an affectionate kiss to the top of her head, just the same way he always did when he greeted her.

She took the bottle from him as he pulled away and Hermione held her breath as the two dark haired wizards squared off, eyeing each other uncomfortably for a moment. She didn't know if she or Snape was the most shocked when Sirius fished another bottle of whiskey – similarly unopened – from his coat pocket and silently handed it to the Potions Master. Snape eyed it like it were a large snake before snatching it when Sirius quirked a challenging eyebrow at the man.

His hands free once more, Sirius fished a third bottle from somewhere and cracked the lid before tipping it to his lips and chugging down almost a third of the bottle.

"Well," he said when he's wiped his mouth. "This is fucked."

"Eloquent, as ever, Black," Snape sneered at Sirius and Hermione sighed before cracking the lid on the bottle she'd been given and tipped it to her lips.

She didn't drink this brand of firewhiskey that often – it was usually too expensive to afford, but Hermione sighed as she swallowed down the first smooth yet burning mouthful. Her eyes drifted closed at the caramel flavour that soothed the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Bite me, Snivellus!" Sirius retorted. "Go easy on that, 'Mione. That whiskey is aged fifty years."

"What are you doing here, Black?" Snape growled at the man though his eyes danced towards Hermione when she kept right on drinking from the bottle Sirius had given her, ignoring the way her insides flooded with an uncomfortable heat.

"What the fuck do you think, fool?" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Figured the three of us needed to discuss this shit without external forces interfering. That, and Tonks showed up at HQ where Harry and Remus are and Remus might've told her she was mad as a march hare if she thought they'd all just get along and then he snarled at her when she told him to suck her cock. And at that point I really didn't want to deal with the mental image painted by the idea of my best mate, my godson and my cousin all going at it, so I left before the domestic drew me in."

Snape curled his lip at Sirius's rambling and Hermione noted the way Sirius's words slurred slightly as though he were already rather inebriated.

"Sweetheart, that stuff will knock you on your arse if you keep chugging it like that," Sirius warned, stepping towards her as though he might stop her but Hermione moved out of his reach and kept right on chugging back the whiskey.

She was feeling overwhelmed and the last thing she wanted to do was be sober while Severus Snape and Sirius Black had another fight – this time over their impending marriage.

"Miss Granger," Snape warned, eyeballing her like he might give her detention if she didn't stop.

Hermione supposed the alcohol might've been going to work on her system faster than expected when she did something she'd never done to Professor Snape before. She flipped him the bird and kept right on chugging the whiskey until the bottle was half gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm really pleased that you're all enjoying this story so much. Thanks ever so much to all of you taking the time to read and review.**

 **Much love! xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

* * *

Black laughed when Granger flipped him off and Severus thought seriously about hexing the pair of them. A nightmare. This must be some wretched nightmare he was going to wake up from any second now.

"When she begins to vomit, Black, I'm going to let you handle it," Severus informed the laughing anigmagus, curling his lip in disgust with both of them.

"Not my living space," Black retorted. "Not my problem. You don't mind if she pukes here, right Snivellus?"

Severus's anger skyrocketed at the hated nickname Black and his foul friends had given him in school. He watched the way Black's smirk grew wider when the hand Severus clutched the bottle of whiskey with began to twitch with the urge to fling it at Black.

"Are you two going to argue like this for the rest of our lives?" Hermione spoke up and Severus slanted a slitted gaze in her direction.

"This is entirely _your_ fault, witch," he reminded her coldly. "If not for your utterly shallow infatuations, we would not be in this situation. As such, your right to bitch about the results of forcing us into close quarters is negated."

"Oi, don't talk to her like that," Black snapped at him.

"Stay out of this, Mutt," Severus retorted.

"Oh, enough!" Granger grumbled, setting her bottle of whiskey - uncapped - upon Severus's coffee table. "Bitching about being stuck in this mess isn't going to bloody fix it and I will _not_ play referee to the two of you while you act like children for the length of this ridiculous marriage! I appreciate that you have a complicated history, but unless you're willing to give up your magic and become muggles, you have no choice but to come to some kind of truce!"

Severus eyed the witch like she were barmy, noting the Black did the same. She stared at the two of them with little blue sparks of raw magic crackling amid her curls.

"Not going to happen, love," Black informed her. "Twenty-five years of hatred doesn't just up and vanish because you say so."

Severus expected that she might deflate in defeat and so he wasn't expecting it when she took a large step toward the animagus until she was nose to nose with him, or would be if she weren't nearly an entire foot shorter than Black.

"Sirius Black, you _will_ learn to be civil to him!" she said fiercely, her eyes flashing _._

Black didn't reply, though he looked sceptical on the idea.

"And _you_ ," Granger spun and stomped right over until she invaded his personal space and Severus glared down his nose at the impertinent little witch. "You will refrain from picking fights with him or so help me, I'll hex the two of you together with a Permanent Sticking Charm."

Severus smirked cruelly at the witch for her rapidly failing nerve as she realised just who it was she spoke to. Her face paled slightly when he simply stared at her, enjoying the way she slowly lost her bolster in the face of his impending reaction.

"Tell me something, _Hermione_ ," Severus purred, lowering his voice to the silken purr that seemed to so unsettle her and watching the way the hairs on her arms stood up. "Is it simply liquid courage, or is it perhaps imagined power that's fuelled this venture into madness?"

Severus smirked a little wider when he caught the way Black's eyes widened at his words before a little shiver rocked through him as well. Now, _there_ was an interesting reaction. Severus would admit that things between him and Black had never been anything less than explosive; constant shouting, snarling cruel words and spitting hexes at one another. He had never had any call to use upon Black the voice he so often used to placate the Dark Lord or to lure his students to further stupidity. Indeed, Severus knew that though he may not have been gifted with the best of physiques, or the handsomest of faces, he had been rather fortunate enough to possess the type of voice that could make a witch wet simply by uttering a few words.

"Neither!" Granger retorted, apparently rallying her Gryffindor courage. "Under ordinary circumstances I would not dream of telling either of you what to do. But this is not an ordinary circumstance and some form of civility _must_ be reached between the two of you. I, for one, will _not_ be giving up my magic and living as a muggle. And I say this with the full knowledge that were there no other choice, I not only would survive doing so, but would _excel_ at doing so. If, however, the choice falls to living as a muggle - no matter how equipped I might be for such a thing - or marrying to two of you, despite the age difference, the animosity and the utterly uncomfortable experience it will undoubtedly be, I _will_ be choosing the latter. Therefore I expect the two of you to act your age, or, at the very least, to act with as much maturity as I am showing right now. Yes, the two of you will be forced into close quarters. Yes, the entire wizarding world – I'm sure – _must_ be aware of your nasty history. Yes, it's unfortunate, and yes, it's my bloody fault. But both of you need to get used to it long enough to tie the fucking knot before getting on with business as usual."

"Business as usual?" Black chuckled from behind her, moving closer until he stood almost directly behind Granger. "Haven't you read the fine-print, 'Mione? There won't be any more business as usual. You have school, Snape's got to teach and I'm not allowed to leave the bloody house. So I'll be having to move in here, locked in and driving you both mad."

"All the more reason for the two of you to be civil to one another," Granger maintained stubbornly, but Severus could tell from the way she lowered her chin and the way she eyed the buttons on the front of his robes rather than continuing to hold his gaze or attempting to look at Black over her shoulder that being so close to the two of them at once made her uncomfortable.

"And how do you propose we do that, Miss Granger, given that we each have tried to kill the other in the past?" Severus asked her quietly, darting a glance at Black over her head before looking at the petite witch once more.

She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping slightly as though defeated.

"I don't know," she muttered. "Can we not just... be adults about this? I'm hardly any more thrilled than either of you about this ridiculous law."

"At least you got a say in who you ended up with," Black retorted bluntly.

"Oh, yes." She rolled her eyes, her head jerking up once more before she shot a glare at the animagus over her shoulder. "Because I made the conscious decision to pick the two of you, Sirius? Tell me, given that your canine sense of smell can likely pick up on the scents of attraction when someone is experiencing it, have you ever done so when I've been in your presence or Snape's?" Hermione demanded, her eyes narrowed. "No? Then what makes you think I had any more say in the turnout of this mess?"

"They are called Limerence Laws, Miss Granger," Severus reminded her. "Meaning that the matches were chosen based on infatuation. And as you are the only one of the three of us who was summoned to the Ministry prior to this announcement, it is obvious that the choice was made based on _your_ preferences."

Severus watched the witch sigh again before she stepped out from between the two of them, swaying slightly as though all the alcohol she'd ingested so rapidly had just kicked in. Eyeing Black for a moment, Severus watched the way the wizard eyed him in return and he wasn't sure if he ought to be more or less alarmed at having the animagus in his quarters when, for the first time in Severus's memory, he didn't look completely hostile whilst staring at him.

"Don't start," Black cut him off when Severus opened his mouth, intending to say something cutting to get them back on familiar ground.

"It's not what you think," Granger said, moving back over to the armchair she'd sat in earlier and picking up the teapot Dobby had delivered. She poured the tea into three separate cups and Severus watched her set about making it three different ways. For Black, she added a dollop of honey and set it aside to cool. For Severus himself, she left it strong, black and unsweetened, pausing only to add a dash of cold water. And for herself she made it milky but unsweetened before lifting it to her lips.

"Explain what types of things the Ministry asked you, love," Black spoke, his words slightly slurred from his intoxication even as he set down his own bottle of whiskey and picked up the tea she'd made for him. He dropped down to sit on the couch and eyed Granger over the rim of it.

Severus recognised the expression he wore. Torn between concern for the fact that she was so very young compared to the two of them, with a touch of curiosity spurred by the fact that they'd both been informed they would have to fuck her in the near future. It was a look of thinly veiled intrigue with just a hint of worry.

"They asked standard questions at first," Granger sighed after sipping her tea before setting it aside. "You know? Name, age, occupation, that sort of thing. Then they got into things pertaining to my health. Had I ever been pregnant? Did I have any children? That kind of rot. Then they got personal. Am I a virgin? What do I look for in a wizard? Would I care if he has, or had, a criminal history? What traits was I most attracted to? What sort of appearance did I find appealing."

"And?" Black asked, looking curious.

"And I told them." She shrugged her slim shoulders. "And now here we are."

"Suggesting you do, in fact, have some sort of infatuation with one or both of us," Severus pointed out.

Her eyes flashed up to meet his in annoyance.

"You know, Sirius was right in my third year. You often jump to the wrong conclusion," she snapped. Severus narrowed his yes on her hatefully while Black began to chuckle.

"Told you," he stated. Severus thought about hexing the idiot.

"The evidence, _Hermione_ ," Severus retorted. "Would prove that statement wrong."

"The evidence, _Severus,_ " she hissed in return, startling him with the venom with which she spoke his first name. "Shows only that they asked what I look for in a wizard. To which I replied; intelligence, wit, volatility, charisma, power and a sense of humour. The only other question they asked was whether I liked light or dark hair, which I replied to as preferring dark hair, the darker the better."

"That's all they had to go on?" Sirius asked and Severus narrowed his eyes.

"That's it. They didn't suggest that I might end up with either of you, let alone _both_ of you. They didn't ask me if there was someone I fancied - and trust me, if they had, I'd not have said either of you!" she snapped. "Do you think this is what I want? One of you has been my teacher - my surly, cutting, cruel and least favourite teacher, I might add - since I entered the wizarding world. The other is the godfather of my best friend and is someone I have, on occasion thought of with the same type of fondness I might apply to a kind uncle. Excuse me if I would like the three of us to be civil enough to bloody well get past that type of thing and get on with this mess without all going for each other's throats."

Severus sighed, slanting a glance at Black and finding him frowning as he continued to eye Granger. Crossing to collect the tea she'd made for him - and feeling rather suspicious that the witch knew how he liked his tea to begin with - Severus supposed that as he so often was forced to do, he was going to have to put his personal distaste for the situation aside long enough to get through the day.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Sirius looked around the dungeon chamber with bleary eyes, trying to keep everything in focus. He was beginning to think he shouldn't have had quite so much to drink, even if learning that he was going to have to marry Hermione and Snivellus did warrant getting black-out drunk.

"So..." he said when the three of them sat in uncomfortable silence for several long minutes after Hermione's statement about getting along and acting like adults.

"If you could refrain from speaking, Black, this process would be rather smoother," Snape informed him in that silky tone that did something funny to him. Sirius didn't like it. That tone made him feel funny inside and made the hairs on his arms stand up.

"Try not to be such an arse for ten minutes, Snape!" Sirius rolled his eyes. "How the fuck is this meant to work?"

"Did you not read your letter?" Snape snarked at him, looking annoyed.

"Oh, I read it. I poured over the fucking thing. I know what we're _supposed_ to do. I want to know what we all _plan_ to do?"

"Get married, obviously," Hermione replied, leaning back in her chair and putting an arm over her face.

"Yeah, because that's going to go so well when you think of me as an uncle and you hate Snape," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I don't hate him," Hermione replied without lifting her arm from her face. "And I didn't say I think of you as…. Oh, forget it."

Sirius and Severus both scoffed at the very idea of her not hating him. Sirius didn't believed that for a second and obviously Snivellus didn't either.

"I don't!" she protested, lifting her arm to peer at them. "I may not be particularly fond of your teaching methods when it comes to being needlessly cruel and terribly biased - even if I do understand why you have to act that way in front of your Slytherin students. But I have never claimed to hate you, Professor."

"You're friends with Potter, Miss Granger, I hardly think that you could manage to interact with him for any amount of time without hating me," Snape replied dryly.

"As a matter of fact, I'm the usually one reminding him not to hex you in class," she replied.

"Out of concern for his safety, not mine."

Sirius smirked.

"Technicalities." Hermione flicked her fingers at his words dismissively and Sirius began to laugh.

"She's fun when she's drunk," he said to Snape, amused by how loose her tongue got when she'd had a few. Snape glanced at him as though shocked that he was capable of speaking to him in a manner that wasn't entirely hostile, even if he was laughing at Snape's expense

"She's going to regret every word when she sobers back up," Snape replied dangerously. Sirius shivered again. Fucking bastard with his tone. He was going to have to figure out a way to block out that silken tone that he didn't doubt could lure anyone into just about anything.

"What are you going to do?" Hermione scoffed, obviously having heard Snape's threat. "Marry me?"

Sirius laughed when she began to snigger, obviously finding the very notion utterly ridiculous and thinking she'd rather taken the wind right out of Snape's sails. She was a funny little thing. Sirius could honestly say that though he'd been fond of her as a friend to Harry in the past, he'd never taken as much notice of her as he did then.

Her hair was a curly, riotous mess; so unlike his own glossy locks or even Snape's lank curtain. The colour was rich, a deep shade of chocolate shot through with strands in every colour, or so it seemed. The wild curls hung to her petite waist, drawing his eye to her slim form. She was short – shorter than he'd recalled until he got up close enough to stare down his nose at her. Slender and small she look fragile at a glance.

She'd proved she was anything but fragile by going toe-to-toe with Snape and even with Sirius himself. She certainly hadn't been afraid to get in either of their faces and she obviously wasn't going to let either one of them push her around when it came to her marriage – forced or otherwise.

"You would do well to remember that I am still you teacher, Miss Granger," Snape warned her, looking annoyed by the way she was giggling. The bloody git needed to lighten the hell up in Sirius's opinion.

"You would do well to remember that I'm your bloody fiancé and possess the ability to make your life a living hell from now on," she replied. Sirius found himself grinning at the way she'd obviously spent more than a little bit of time prior to today learning how to imitate that silken purr of Snape's. She didn't quite master it, but she gave it a fair effort and it showed that Snape wasn't thrilled about it when his lips twisted hatefully and his brow furrowed.

"You have no grasp of my position if you imagine my life isn't _already_ a living hell," Snape retorted coldly.

"Oi! Lighten up, yeah?" Sirius shot the git a look. "Doom and gloom aren't upon us just because we have to get fuckin' married. Have a bloody drink, you surly sod. You're bloody depressing to be around when you talk like that."

"Black? Do me a favour and go fuck yourself," Snape hissed in return, his black eyes flashing at him hatefully.

"Pretty sure from here on out that's your job, mate," Sirius replied without thinking.

His own eyes widened when Snape actually choked on his tea and Hermione began to laugh so hard, she snorted.

"Bloody hell," Sirius said, his cheeks turning red over his thoughtless comment. "That was a bit out of order."

Hermione was laughing hysterically in her chair, slapping her hand against her leg as though she couldn't express her amusement through laughter alone. Sirius eyed Snape for a moment in concern, expecting a hex in the face for even suggesting the idea of the two of them shagging.

"Oh, gods! I didn't even _think_ about that!" Hermione chortled, opening her eyes to peer between the two of them. "You two have to shag!"

She dissolved into giggles.

"Don't even think about it, Black," Snape growled.

Sirius could tell from the furious look on his face that the notion utterly repulsed him. He'd debate the idea of Snape loathing the notion because he didn't swing that way over the notion of him simply being disgusted because he was Sirius later. Right then he was trying very hard not to think about the idea of fucking anyone, let along fucking Snape.

"I'm doing my best not to. You did say something about wanting avoid having anyone puke on your floor."

Snape curled his lip in fury, obviously taking offence to the idea of Sirius finding the notion of shagging him vomit-worthy.

"I've been too busy panicking about the idea that _I'm_ going to have to shag both of you. I completely forgot that you two would have to… ahahhahaha!" she trailed off again even as she fished her wand out of her pocket. "Gods, this is a recipe for disaster. One of us is going to die, I'm sure of it. Why don't I just save us all some time and kick off now?"

She turned the tip on herself, pulling it from somewhere while they hadn't been looking. Sirius lunged for the girl across the table. Snape did the same thing, their shoulders brushing when they both reached to wrestle the weapon from her grip before she could drunkenly off herself.

"Fucking hell!" Sirius growled, yanking her wand away from her before pinning her to the armchair, not that she put up much of a fight. "Do you have Sober-Up Potion around here, Snape?"

Snape was already on his feet and crossing the room to open a cupboard along one wall. He fished out a phial of potion and Sirius took note of where he kept them for future reference. He expected that having to live with these two would drive him to drink even more than he already did. Merlin, at this rate his liver was likely to give out before he could even hit forty.

"Drink this, Miss Granger!" Snape hissed in annoyance, forcing the potion on the witch Sirius was restraining. Not that she was putting up much of a fight toward the idea of legitimately offing herself. Maybe she'd only been being flip. Sirius narrowed his eyes at the very idea. He'd spent too many nights contemplating turning his wand on himself and too many more having to wrestle the wand out of Remus's hands to keep _him_ from killing himself to find it even a little bit funny. When he looked at Snape, he got the distinct feeling that the bastard was thinking much the same thing.

Morgana's Muff, they were a rotten match. Hell, maybe the Ministry had the right of it after all, bitter enemies or not, he and Snivellus probably had more in common than either of them would like to acknowledge.

"Do you think he's always going to be that bossy?" Hermione asked, whispering to him as though Snape wouldn't hear her.

"Not if we can shut him up," he replied.

"I will shut you both up, permanently, if I have to!" Snape snarled at them like the wretched, sour bastard he was. "Miss Granger, drink this before I Imperius you into acting like a rational human being."

"Don't threaten her," Sirius snapped at the fucker.

Snape's sneer could've curdled milk as Hermione snatched the potion and drank it quickly. She made a face and groaned in disgust at the flavour and the effect of the potion.

"Urgh!" she managed, glaring at Snape and then at Sirius as though it were somehow their fault she'd gotten herself drunk.

"Told you it would knock you on your arse," Sirius smirked at her.

"You drink one too, Mutt" Snape ordered, crossing the sitting room to thrust a similar phial at him.

"No way in hell. I can't tolerate you sober!" Sirius shook his head, refusing to accept the potion.

Sirius blinked in shock when Snape lunged forward, gripped his chin and used his thumb to pry Sirius's teeth apart. He poured the potion into Sirius mouth before clamping his hand over his mouth until Sirius had no choice but to swallow it. The minute he'd done so, Snape let go and Sirius was on his feet. The Floo roared to life just as his fist connected with Snape's jaw.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I love you all so much for taking the time to read and review this story, despite it's outrageous matches. I can't wait to see what you think of this chapter! Much love to you all. xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

* * *

Hermione cringed in horror, clutching at her head when Professor Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace just in time for Professor Snape to stumble back into the coffee table, upsetting the teapot, their discarded teacups, and the open bottle of Firewhiskey. It all tipped over, liquid going everywhere as Professor Snape lunged at Sirius in return, both of them forgetting they were wizards with wands and resorting to muggle brawling instead.

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore roared loudly at the sight, startling the life out of Hermione given that the last time she could recall him raising his voice that way, he had been yelling over the screams of terror in her first year when Professor Quirrell had let the troll into the dungeons.

Snape and Sirius both ignored his shout, pummelling each other like schoolboys instead of acting like grown men. Hermione frowned at the sight of them, fearing that this would be what her life was reduced to. The idea of getting married for the sake of procreating sons to carry on wizarding names, and daughters to further those lines was bad enough. The idea of playing owl or Switzerland between the two bitter enemies made her want to tear her hair out.

No. It made her want to tear _their_ hair out.

"Miss Granger, are you hurt?" Dumbledore asked when Snape slugged Sirius across the jaw and Sirius returned fire with a kidney jab. Both of them ignored the Headmaster's roared directive and Hermione looked up at the touch on her arm. She supposed that sitting slightly slumped in her chair recovering from her brief intoxication and looking at the fight like she didn't even care if they killed one another must make him think she was injured.

"I'm fine," she informed the Headmaster, shaking off the hand he placed on her arm.

She narrowed her eyes hatefully on the pair of wizards she was legally obligated to marry and leapt out of her chair. She ducked when Snape drew back to hit Sirius again, almost catching an elbow to the face. She waited for the blow to land, sending Sirius staggering back a few steps, before she stepped between the two of them. Some quick wand work drew a shield around her, just in case either of them didn't realise she was there until too late, but as soon as she was between them Hermione planted her feet and simply waited.

Sirius, in the process of correcting his balance – not easy given how drunk she suspected he was – began to lunge before he spotted her and stopped short, his fist quivering in front of her face just outside of her shields. Snape, intent on murdering Sirius it seemed, lunged from her other side, colliding with her shields heavily. Hermione held firm when he attempted to shove her out of his way.

"Miss Granger, you are in terrible danger placing yourself between the two of them," Professor Dumbledore said, once more adopting the grandfatherly tone she'd come to expect from him. Hermione eyed him, noting that for all that he warned her, he didn't look like he was going to intervene and protect her. Indeed, he looked rather intrigued, as though he wouldn't mind figuring out if they could be convinced to play nice by sticking her between the two of them.

"I feel certain that statement applies aptly to my impending marriage, sir," Hermione agreed with him.

"Move, witch!" Snape hissed at her, trying again to shove her aside and still attempting to get to Sirius.

Hermione glanced up into his face and saw that it was twisted with the blackest hatred, his dark eyes fixed upon Sirius like he was imagining ripping him limb from limb. When he recalled his own status as a wizard and his hand dove for his wand, Hermione disarmed the pair of them, catching both wands easily and blasting them both back from one another.

" _If_ you two are quite finished?" she hissed in a cold voice, glaring at each man in turn.

Sirius looked rather contrite as the Sober-Up Potion kicked in, clearing his head and seeming to make him realise that he'd almost clobbered Hermione in his attempt to pummel Snape. He didn't look sorry for the fight, Hermione noticed. He merely seemed concerned that he'd almost hurt her in the attempt.

Snape, on the other hand, glared at both of them with the most hateful expression she'd ever seen on his face. Angrier even than the expression he tended to level at Harry in class, the man looked like he would dance for joy if they both dropped dead.

"Severus?" Dumbledore spoke when only the heavy breathing of both of men could be heard within Snape's quarters. "I would rather appreciate it if you would all be so good as to take a seat. Miss Granger, I must insist that you never throw yourself between brawling or duelling wizards in such a manner again."

Hermione levelled the Headmaster a frosty look.

"I don't imagine I'll have much choice," she replied evenly. "I assume by you presence here that you are choosing _not_ to oppose the law and challenge the Ministry?"

It occurred to her, belatedly, that she was being rude in her bad mood but she was too furious with both her fiancés, and with the Ministry and indeed, the entire wizarding world right then, to care. Looking away when Dumbledore fixed her a pointed look that she suspected was annoyance thinly veiled by sympathetic kindness, Hermione flicked her wand at the mess upon the table, repairing the teapot and one of the cups before righting the entire set, vanishing the spilled liquid, and tidying up the mess both wizards had made.

"There is little I _can_ do to challenge the law, Miss Granger. I am as effected by it as the three of you and indeed, as the rest of the wizarding community. It seems there is little to do but to comply, I'm afraid."

"You're not even going to _try_ to fix this?" Sirius snarled, his eyes flashing with fury.

"I will become a muggle before I will comply," Snape said at the same time.

Hermione, on the other hand, eyed Dumbledore carefully. It occurred to her that if he was there with them rather than handling the mess over whomever he'd been matched with, it stood to reason that he'd come with the intent to manipulate them all. She had glimpsed on more than one occasion that there was far more to Professor Dumbledore's role in the war than being a powerful wizard whom Voldemort feared. He was a cunning, conniving, sly man who plotted every move on the board.

"You knew this would happen, didn't you, sir?" Hermione asked shrewdly, refusing to take a seat even when Dumbledore did.

"I had no idea the Ministry would impose such an ordinance on all of it's citizens," he denied.

"You suspected," Hermione said. "If you'd had this sprung upon you without notice or suspicion, you wouldn't be this calm about it. I get the feeling you didn't think they would force school children – namely Harry – into such a thing. But you're not here to tell us that you know a way out of this mess. You're here to ensure that all the pieces on your chess board against V-Voldemort stay where they should."

Snape hissed at the use of the Dark Lord's name in his presence.

"Miss Granger, I think you are applying me too much credit. I am merely here to ensure that this terrible law will run smoothly."

"Liar," Snape hissed, advancing on the old man. "She's right. You are here to make sure your spy in the Dark Lord's ranks doesn't bail on the magical world. You are here to make sure the mutt doesn't go upsetting the apple-cart and getting himself killed. You are here to ensure that Potter's little walking textbook doesn't end up a muggle, thus leaving the boy all but useless and the wizarding world unprotected against the Dark Lord."

Sirius glanced between all of them before he opened his mouth. He had blood running from his nose, a cut on his lip, and a rapidly blackening eye. Snape didn't look much better. He had a graze on his right cheek, a split eyebrow, and a lump on his sharp jaw.

"You want to make sure this mess doesn't let me out of the cage you've forced me into," Sirius spoke softly, a growl in his voice as his eyes flashed once more.

Dumbledore looked between the three of them for a moment, that ever present twinkle in his eyes and Hermione felt the irrational urge to lash out at the man and fling something at his head.

"I'm afraid I _have_ come to discover your intentions," he admitted. "And with the intent of reminding you that Harry needs the three of you more than anyone else in this war. You, Miss Granger, are his best friend and as Severus rightly states, you are the person he calls upon when things go awry and he needs knowledge of our world to overcome the blunder. You, Sirius, are his Godfather. You are the man he looks up to as a father figure and the one last connection he believes he has to his parents. He has Remus of course, shortly they will be family, but _you_ are the man he relies on as a parent, someone he leans on when he suffers the effects of his burden."

Dumbledore looked at each of them in turn, pointedly staring to the point that Hermione squirmed.

"And you, Severus. You are the only person standing between Tom's power and the Order. Without the insight you provide and the information you feed us, we would be blindly fighting against the Death Eaters and would surely have lost this battle. Harry is not yet ready to face Tom. You know this. Without you we have no way of protecting Harry long enough to see him defeat Tom."

Hermione didn't like the way he spoke so calmly about what would undoubtedly be the fight of their lives. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that Harry would succeed without them, and that if they chose to leave the magical world to it's fate, that was their prerogative. But she knew it would do no good. She'd had every intention of trying her best to wed the two dark haired wizards she'd been matched to when she'd marched herself down to Snape's chambers in the first place. She didn't _want_ to give up her magic and become a muggle, but neither did she want to marry Sirius and Snape.

She couldn't think of anything worse, if she was being honest. Merlin, at this point even the likes of Draco Malfoy would be preferable. He could never affect her with an acid tongue the way Snape or Sirius each could. Individually each of the wizards she'd been matched with would have been a handful. Together? It was a recipe for disaster.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose for a long moment in silence while everyone glared at each other, namely Snape and Sirius glaring at Dumbledore and the headmaster attempting to subtly convince them it was in their best interest to do whatever he wanted. Hermione huffed out an annoyed breath and pocketed the two wands she had confiscated, pretending she didn't see the way Snape held his hand out for his expectantly.

"It would seem that were are at an impasse, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione spoke up. She crossed the room to sit upon one of the long couches across from the armchair she'd vacated to break up the fight. Dumbledore had seated himself there in an attempt to keep this civil. Sitting on the middle cushion of the three-seat couch, Hermione crossed one leg over the other and steepled her fingers together in her lap.

"I wasn't aware that we had conflicting goals, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore replied pleasantly. He waved his wand and conjured a teacup for himself before magically refilling the teapot. Hermione watched the way the tea set began making them all a cup of tea in silence for another long moment.

"We do," she said finally, when a perfectly made tea levitated into her hands.

"Indeed?" he asked, one eyebrow lifting in challenge as he eyed her over the top of those half-moon spectacles.

"We do," Snape agreed. "I will _not_ marry these two. I refuse to marry anyone."

"Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes on him in annoyance. He slanted a glare in her direction, clearly curious over the reasonable tone in her voice. "If you could take a seat so we can discuss this like adults, I'd appreciate it."

He narrowed his eyes on her hatefully.

"Sirius, you too. No, don't give me that insolent look. Sit your bloody arses down on this couch before I hex the pair of you!" Hermione snapped when both men looked like they would argue. "Now! Professor Dumbledore I'm sure you understand our shared frustrations over the notion of a match like this one. Professor Snape is, after all, my teacher. Sirius is Harry's Godfather. The idea of either of them being paired with me is ludicrous and, I suspect, part of a Death Eater plot to expose Harry to further loss. Pairing myself with Professor Snape or myself with Sirius is beyond folly. But all three of us in the same martial bond? It's a death sentence, as things stand."

"I am aware of that, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said and the faintest frown belied his confusion.

"You undoubtedly understand then, why Professor Snape is reluctant to agree to this idea, no matter that you need a spy? Why Sirius doesn't want to play into this chess-match you're playing with Voldemort?"

Dumbledore's eyes crinkled slightly.

"Do you have a point, witch?" Snape growled, still refusing to sit down.

"Until you sit down I'm not going to acknowledge your existence," she warned him.

Sirius's snort of amusement followed the depression of the cushions as he dropped into the seat beside her and slung his arm along the back of the couch. Hermione glanced at him for a moment.

"How do these facts land us at an impasse, Miss Granger?" Professor Dumbledore asked her.

Hermione's smirk, when it slipped across her face, was rather cruel.

"You've admitted you need us to comply," she said simply. "I'll be honest, I don't want to get married. I had no intention of doing so until I was well into my twenties or even my thirties. I am only eighteen. I intended to finish my schooling, perhaps consider an apprenticeship if I survived the war, and otherwise explore the magical world without the inconvenience of a spouse - or spouses, in this case. I certainly had no intention of having children this young.

"I imagine that both Sirius and Professor Snape had other plans in life than being hitched to me and legally required to knock me up. That being said, you've rightly pointed out that the three of us play vital roles in Harry's life and he is our only chance at stopping Voldemort. You _need_ the three of us to agree to this ridiculous law, marry and otherwise comply with the Ministry's wishes. I imagine you're prefer we did so without a fuss, and that we would simply figure out how to co-exist whilst continuing to play the roles you require of us in this war, yes?"

Dumbledore was eyeing her coolly now, that twinkle in his eyes slowly vanishing.

"So you see, Professor, it seems to me that agreeing against our own wishes would be entirely for _your_ benefit. Meaning that if you want this to work, you're going to have to do a few things to ensure it works smoothly."

"Oh?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

"You're extorting the headmaster, Miss Granger, really?" Snape sneered at her, still having not taken a seat. Hermione ignored him.

"What's your goal here, sweetheart?" Sirius asked from the cushion next to hers. Hermione turned to shoot him a mischievous look, responding because he'd done as he was asked, unlike Snape.

"My goal is your freedom," Hermione answered him before turning her eyes back to Professor Dumbledore. "According to the Marriage Law, the three of us would be required to co-habit a dwelling and a bed for the sake of the union. Obviously, given that I'm still a student and Snape is still a teacher, it would make sense for Sirius to relocate here from Headquarters. Only I don't imagine he'll live long driving the pair of us," she jerked a thumb between herself and Snape, "batty because he has no one else to interact with and nothing but mischief to find if he's left cooped up in here all by himself."

"You have another option in mind?" Snape asked. Again, Hermione ignored him, her eyes still on Dumbledore.

"I am not able to have Sirius cleared at the Ministry, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, frowning. Hermione uncrossed her legs slowly and leaned forwards as far as she could in her chair, still maintaining eye contact with the Headmaster.

"Bullshit."

Sirius choked on his sip of tea. Dumbledore looked rather surprised and Snape twitched slightly. Hermione kept right on staring down the Headmaster.

"You are, without a doubt, the most well-connected and powerful person within the magical world right now, Professor. You've had the ability to clear Sirius's name since it came to light that Pettigrew was the one to betray the Potters. You have my testimony, Harry's, and Ron's. You have Sirius's and Remus's. You even have Snape's, no matter that he was unconscious for some of the explanation. I hardly think you would have trouble getting your hands on Pettigrew either, given that like Snape, he is a Death Eater. You _can_ get Sirius's name cleared, you just don't _want_ to."

"Miss Granger, I assure you..." Dumbledore began.

"Don't. Lie. To me." Hermione hissed at the elderly wizard, adopting her best impression of Snape as she glared at him. "You don't want him to be cleared because you have no use for him. He is Harry's role model and you want to protect him, knowing Voldemort will hunt him down if he can. You have _no_ other use for him because you believe him little more than a loose cannon, too bent on the idea of joining James Potter in the afterlife to think things through before doing them, and too passionately against the Dark Lord's forces to be allowed freedom that might see him committing the very acts he was falsely imprisoned for. You don't _want_ to go to the trouble of clearing him; you don't _want_ to cash in on the favours people owe you for the sake of a man who might throw it all away in a reckless moment of anger if he thinks he can avenge his dead best friend. Why waste the leverage, right? Why bother when you can stick him in a secret location and let him rot, drowning in alcoholism and boredom? Why clear him when you've got no room for him on your chess board?"

Dumbledore looked thunderstruck at her words but Hermione wasn't through. She narrowed her eyes on the man.

"Well, guess what, sir?" Hermione challenged in a low voice. "His wagon was just hitched to mine. How long do you think Harry would actually last without me to bail him and Ron out of trouble when they land in it? Who do you think will talk him down and rein him in when he wants to go off, half-cocked, and run at the enemy just to be bloody done with things, one way or the other?"

"How will you prevent that if I clear him and Sirius runs at the enemy instead? Do you imagine yourself capable of supporting Harry through the loss of the only family he has left?" Dumbledore challenged and all traces of the kindly grandfather persona were gone.

Sirius's sharp intake of breath preluded his expression of furious outrage. Hermione had known for a while that Dumbledore could have done more to see the man's named cleared, but Sirius seemed to have been beaten down enough to believe the lie that it couldn't be done.

"I imagine that if it came down to it, I could get Harry through just about anything," Hermione replied. "The betrayal of a friend was tough, but I did it. Witnessing a murder and suffering the nightmares that followed it make him a raging ball of angst most days, but I endure it when he spits acid words in my face and jump down my throat thinking the whole world is out to get him. If you have concerns that clearing Sirius will end up causing Harry to lose him, you're mistaken."

"Oh, and just what do you propose we do with him when he's cleared, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore bit out. "Let him loose on the world, unprotected?"

"Oi! I'm not a fuckin' pet!" Sirius spoke up in annoyance over the way they spoke of him as though he weren't in the room.

"Aren't you, Black?" Snape drawled.

"Fuckin' eat me, Snivellous!"

Hermione ignored them both.

"Give him a job," Hermione suggested.

Dumbledore, Snape and Sirius all froze and turned to look at her slowly.

"You want me to teach?" Sirius asked.

"You think he _could_ teach?" Snape sneered. "Oh yes. That makes perfect sense. Miss Granger, I knew you were a brown-nosing little teacher's pet, but this is going too far."

"I don't have a teaching position open,' Dumbledore said.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose against the barrage of voices as they all spoke at once.

"Headmaster, I imagine you'll have a few jobs opening up when people are forced to relocate as a result of the war. Your current choice for Defence Professor is a woman. Unless she's been matched to a pair of students or some other male teacher upon the staff, she will be needing to leave the position. She is also required to get pregnant and further the wizarding race. You'll have a Defence position open and I've got it on good authority that Sirius is a decent Defence teacher."

"I don't know how to teach kids, love," Sirius argued.

"Remus does," Hermione shrugged.

"Which one do you want me to employ?" Dumbledore asked.

"Defence!" Snape hissed, his expression pinched at the idea that Dumbledore was considering it at all.

"Both of them, sir," Hermione said. "Harry was matched to Remus and Tonks. You can hardly let Harry's _husband_ run around unprotected. Split the classes between Remus and Sirius. They can cancel out the marital conflict, too. If Remus teaches the girls and Sirius teaches the boys, there will be no conflict of me or Harry being married to the teacher marking our homework."

"Oh, and what are you doing about being married to me, swot? I'm sure it must be a fantasy of yours to have your teacher's approval, Miss Granger, but I'm afraid your personal kinks will have to be relegated to the bedroom." Snape sneered.

"I'll study potions externally with you tutoring me," Hermione replied, narrowing her eyes on him dangerously. "And if you make one more comment about the idea of me having a Teacher kink, I'm going to personally see to it that you are in a sexless marriage, _Severus_."

Sirius snorted while Snape levelled her a glare.

"Miss Granger, there is hardly call for such..." Dumbledore was cut off when Snape stalked closer and glared down at her, looming over her on the couch. Hermione stared back at him defiantly.

"I've found a small problem in your plan, love," Sirius said, seeming entirely amused by the battle of wills between her and Snape.

"A problem?" Dumbledore asked.

"The job's cursed. It's a quick fix for now, but no one has held the position for more than one consecutive year in almost sixty years," Sirius reminded them. "It's why you won't let bloody Snivellus have the job."

"I'm in my seventh year," Hermione reminded him, tearing her eyes from Snape when he glared at Sirius for the nickname. "After this year the only one in this equation who needs to be at the school is Snape. And given the climate of things in the battle against the Death Eaters, I'm beginning to think there's a plan that doesn't involve Snape staying after this year. What's the point when Harry won't be here?

"You and Remus would both enjoy the same protection the rest of the students get, providing your own for the rest of us, too. It means you won't drive me batty when I have to live with you and it means that after the year is up and we don't have to be here, we can all toddle off to war and slay the demon. The alternative is that you don't get your name cleared and you just get to hang out in here all day talking to me and Snape and no one else since you won't be allowed out. There is honestly no way around the idea of you being cleared, actually. The rings are supposed to monitor compliance with the law in the union and the baby-making effort, so they'll be able to track you with it. Without you being cleared, they'll storm the school and arrest you, or they'll haul Snape and I in for questioning and then lock both of us up for harbouring a fugitive. If you don't want to teach, you could do something else, but you'll be in danger. The job would give you and Remus both a stable position for a while. Even when you're cleared, no one will be keen on hiring you for a while, Sirius."

"You mind runs a mile a minute, doesn't it, sweetheart?" Sirius asked, eyeing her strangely. Hermione blinked at him, surprised by the open admiration glittering in his eyes. "You think of everything and you're willing to extort Dumbledore to get what you want."

"What I want is to not have to get married," Hermione argued.

"We all want that. But faced with no choice other than being a muggle, you're using the situation to your advantage. Well, my advantage. You really want to hang your magic on Dumbledore's willingness to clear me?"

"I really don't want to murder you," Hermione said. "And trust me. If you're locked up in here with only me and _him_ for company, one of us will murder you. Snape will likely try more frequently, but I don't much fancy splitting my soul just because you're climbing the walls."

"You seem to be operating under the delusion that I'll comply, Miss Granger. The fatal flaw in your plan."

Hermione glanced up at Snape where he was still looming over her trying to throw a wrench in the works. His lips were twisted in a terrible expression of a triumphant sneer, as though his words had thwarted her. Hermione pressed her lips together for a moment, letting her eyes trail over the man carefully. She already memorised his features. Now she simply sought out weakness. She needed something to exploit him with. Some way force his hand to ensure he cooperated. She wouldn't put it past him to turn his back on the wizarding world and let them all rot.

Sliding off the couch, Hermione got to her feet, finding herself very much inside Snape's personal space thanks to the way he loomed over her. Momentarily she entertained the notion of using her feminine wiles to appeal to the side of him that undoubtedly craved kindness, affection and empathy. She thought about bribing him with sex, but she didn't think that would work either. Tipping her head to one side, Hermione lifted one hand and let it hover in front of his chest. She found her eyes fixating on his many buttons and her fingers itched to toy with them.

He tensed as though expecting her to swat him. Hermione watched his eyes dart between both of hers before he shot a glare at Sirius. When he looked back at her, Hermione carefully pressed her hand against his chest. She could feel his heart beating in his chest, hammering out a furious beat.

"You don't have to be scared, Professor," she said quietly, meeting his gaze and watching the way his pupils blew wide. Hermione stood still, waiting with baited breath to see if she picked the wrong tactic and anticipating his rage.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks ever so much to all of you who read and review. I hope you like the new chapter.**

 **Much love! xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIX**

* * *

Severus eyed the little bitch with mounting fury. He'd been able to pick the thoughts right out of her head as she'd tried to decide how best to convince him cooperate with the notion of marrying her. He fully intended to. He didn't have a choice, with Albus involved. Insolence had been her first idea; then seduction. Severus wondered if he should be offended that she'd decided against trying it, or proud that she dismissed the notion as an ineffective means to sway him.

She was clever, he'd give her that. When she'd called Dumbledore out on the notion of clearing Black's name and giving him a job instead, she'd proved she had stones, too. He'd been thinking of her throughout the ordeal thus far, as little more than as the impertinent swot who wasted her time in his classes, waving her hand about in the air trying to get his attention to answer a question. In his mind he could recall the image of her, hair bushier than it was now, buck-teeth too big for her mouth before she'd had them shrunken down to size, expression earnest with the need to answer a question.

The witch before him now was far removed from that one. She'd always been insolent and prone to speaking out of turn, but this wasn't a little girl pitching a fit or spewing defiance. No, she might be even more defiant but she was no child. She wasn't afraid to call Dumbledore a liar. She didn't cower in the face of Severus's wrath. She didn't seem prone to swooning for the mutt, either. She was furious, calculating and cold. Manipulative. Were it not for the bravery it undoubtedly took for her to stand up to him and to Dumbledore at all, Severus might've said she'd make a decent Slytherin, in another life.

"Do you imagine me fearful of you or Black?" Severus asked in a low, goading hiss.

He smirked when goose-bumps raced across her skin, at the tone. Black reacted to it, too. That would come in handy later, he imagined.

"Of course not," she shook her head. "Fearful _for_ us, however..."

Severus narrowed his eyes on her once more. Oh, she was good. He'd conceded that point. She knew he was a Death Eater and had deduced that if he married the two of them, the Dark Lord would order him to bring one or both of them before him. Merlin, if it would cement his place in the Dark Lord's trust, Albus would ask it of him, no matter the cost to Potter. Did she know that? Or was she merely guessing?

"Ah, so you are deluding yourself with notions that I would care should your death be required. How quaint. You will find, _Hermione_ , that I've absolutely no regard for you or the mutt."

"I think we both know that's a lie, don't we?" she asked in return, her confounded hand still pressing against his chest to the left of his row of buttons. The touch unnerved him. No one ever willingly touched him unless he was interested in paying for it or seduced them with his voice. It had been longer than he could recall since anyone other than Poppy Pomfrey had willingly touched him in any capacity without wanting anything from him in return. And even she only did so for the moral obligation of healing him when he was wounded.

Everyone else in the world seemed to have gotten the memo that petting dangerous creatures was not wise. The idea that this tiny, wild-haired witch would touch him so willingly annoyed him more than it should. Especially because he _knew_ she was manipulating him.

"You're afraid that you'll be asked to murder one or both of us, by _either_ of your masters. Yes, I have no delusions of where the orders might come from and what it would cost you to carry them out, no matter how Sirius and I might annoy the stuffing out of you." She spoke in a soft whisper, soft enough that Albus wouldn't be able to hear her. She certainly knew how to play, this one. Severus wasn't sure he liked the notion overly much.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking that there is _anything_ you could do that will sway my opinion if I'm not of a mind to agree with you, Miss Granger," Severus warned her, colouring his tone with contempt but pushing just the faintest hint of fondness into it, just to see what would happen.

She smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It didn't look a cunning smile either, if he was being honest. She looked almost... resigned. As though she knew she was fighting a losing battle but was going to keep fighting to her last breath if she had to.

"We agreed you weren't going to call me that anymore," she reminded him quietly.

"You keep calling my Professor," Severus retorted quietly. His eyes darted to Black when the mutt sat forward in his chair, leaning closer as though hoping he would overhear the two of them.

Circe's cunt, the idea of marrying the two of them made him want to Avada himself.

"Are you going to cooperate with the law or not, Snape?" the little swot asked. She didn't seem comfortable using his given name unless she was taunting him or threatening him, Severus noticed with a twist of his lips. "I assure you that should the order come that you have to murder either of us, we will be able to figure something out. Or do you want to give up your magic for the sake of me and Sirius?"

Severus was going to have to be careful with this one. She was crafty and could play the word games with more skill than most Gryffindors seemed to possess.

"You do realise that magical bonds of marriage are taken for life, don't you?" he asked her, shooting another glance at Black when he stood up and moved closer, obviously not liking not knowing what was going on.

"She's the smartest witch I've ever met, of course she realises that, Snape," Black muttered.

"I am aware that the ceremony involves a Blood Oath. In fact, I believe there might be a solution to your concern that can be solved with the ceremony itself," she admitted. She shot a glance at Black over her shoulder and Severus noticed the way she shifted her weight between her feet slightly, obviously not used to being surrounded by wizards in this manner.

She might be accustomed to two on one, given that she was so close with Potter and Weasley, but he suspected they preferred to both stand in front of her, rather than one in front and one behind so as to ensure that she was always in the middle of them. Severus was thinking Black did it on purpose, either to keep himself from attacking, to protect himself should Severus attack him in return, or simply because he'd noticed how it unsettled the witch, too.

"You already have a plan for that too?" Severus asked, raising one eyebrow sceptically.

"I like to use my time wisely," she shrugged. "And I am, as you say, a know-it-all. Look, I'm not saying I've got all the answers or that this will be easy. Merlin knows that of every match in the history of the wizarding world, there couldn't be a more complicated one than this. I understand that the two of you have a nasty history and I get it that you'd rather never have to speak to one another and that the idea of being stuck with each other and with me must be repugnant to you given the age difference and the circumstances of our interactions up until now, but the other option is being muggles. I don't imagine your masters would leave you be should you choose to walk away from the magical world either, Snape. I hate to say it, but the only valid option here is that the three of us comply with the law and figure out the details later."

"Or I could kill both of you," Severus replied.

"You won't," Hermione said, tipping her head to one side and regarding him carefully before Black could even open his mouth to tell him to shove it.

"What makes you so sure?"

"You'd have done it already if you were going to."

"You confiscated my wand," Severus reminded her. "Actually, I'd like it back."

"I'm sure you would. I'm trying to illustrate the point of why you're going to comply. You feel naked and vulnerable right now without your wand, don't you? Sirius is a bit more used to it, given that he didn't have one for the twelve years he was in Azkaban, but you're not used to being without your wand. That's how you'll feel as a muggle, only you won't have wandless-magic either. The part of you that makes you so inherently _you_ will be gone. And I'm not sure the Ministry would remove your memories of the magical world along with your ability to wield magic. Doing so for someone like Sirius would leave him all but brain dead. For you... well, I don't know enough about your history to know how it would affect you, but I don't imagine it would be pleasant."

"Stop being such a swot and give me my wand, witch," Severus sighed. "And when you're sandwiched between me and the fucking mutt behind you, naked, and feeling like you'd rather be dead, you remember that _you_ were the one who argued marriage instead of muggle."

 **~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

Hermione's lips twitched with victory to know he'd agreed with her, even if he'd done so in a way that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Sirius?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at the man. "Objections?"

"To getting married?" he clarified. "Sweetheart, if I get cleared of my convictions and get to interact with the rest of the bloody world again rather than being locked away at Grimmauld, I'd bloody well shag Snape myself. I'll handle being married."

"Must you, with the mental imagery?" Hermione asked when Snape curled his lip and made a sound of disgust.

"You'll get used to me, love," Sirius promised with a laugh. He dropped another kiss to the top of her head before the three of them all turned to look at Dumbledore.

He was eyeing them shrewdly.

"We'll bloody do it," Sirius said. "But you have to come through on the part where I get cleared of being a wanted criminal and where you give me and Moony the Defence position."

Dumbledore didn't look thrilled with the idea, but he seemed at least relieved that he wouldn't need to look for three new people to help in the fight against Voldemort.

"Severus, I expected that Tom will call upon you soon to find out who you have been matched with and how you intend to approach the matter. I believe it would be in the best interests of all three of you to marry as quickly as possible."

"Old man, I've got a week of freedom left!" Sirius protested. "I'm not about to tie myself to these two for the rest of my life in monogamy without sewing a few more wild oats!"

"The idea of the law is that you sew your oats in Granger, you fucking moron!" Snape sneered and Hermione sighed.

They were _never_ going to get along.

"Actually, about that," Hermione spoke up. "It might've escaped your notice, but I'm still in school. I'm not getting pregnant before I graduate. Also, it seems to me that Harry knocking up Tonks before the war is won would be rather dangerous. One more target for the Death Eaters to strike at and one more tether to keep Harry from doing whatever he must to win the war."

"Contraceptives are supposed to be cancelled out by whatever magic has been imbued into the rings the Ministry issued," Dumbledore sighed. "Severus? Perhaps you can think of a solution?"

Snape nodded. "I'll brew something. You truly mean for us to marry as quickly as possible?"

"You know what Tom will ask of you if they are not protected by the ceremony and oaths I believe Miss Granger hinted at," Dumbledore said.

"And should you require the same sacrifice at some later date?" Snape asked shrewdly. Hermione hid her smirk, sighing slightly and letting herself lean against Sirius.

He seemed surprised by the touch when she leaned against him before he propped his chin atop her head and circled one arm around her waist. Butterflies fluttered inside her stomach at the casual return of affection. The time she had spent with Sirius in the past had proved that he could be very affectionate if he decided he liked a person. Indeed, he often seemed to crave physical touch – a carryover from spending twelve years alone in a cramped cell with only the other insane prisoners and the Dementors for company.

In the past he'd slung an arm around her in the kitchens at Grimmauld Place and once laid his head in her lap when they'd all been lounging about in the library last winter, begging her to play with his hair, but the butterflies had never made themselves known before. Hermione supposed that knowing that she had anywhere between a few hours and a few days to get used to being intimate with him and indeed, to prepare to have sex with him, it was natural that the butterflies filled her tummy.

Snape shot them both a glare as though they'd betrayed him by touching one another and Hermione felt more than heard the way Sirius laughed at his expense.

"I would prefer that all three of you are incapable of killing each other in any capacity, no matter whose orders ask it," Dumbledore said.

"We can't get married today," Hermione interrupted before it could be suggested. "I agree that there's little sense in waiting when doing so will cause Snape problems with his master, but today is much too soon."

"It's barely mid-morning, Miss Granger. There is still plenty of time to handle such things. And I understand you no longer have parents who recognise you, so there's hardly need to invite them. Similarly Sirius and Severus have no relatives to invite, though I expect Remus and Harry and the Weasley's might like to be there for the ceremony. There is time to invite them and see to the joining the evening."

"That may be," Hermione said in a tight voice, narrowing her eyes on the Headmaster. "But let's not forget the part of magical bonding ceremonies for marriage requiring consummation."

"Scared, Granger?" Snape sneered.

"Yes, actually. But I imagine that right in this moment, if I were to strip naked you and Sirius would likely run scared."

"Oh?" Sirius asked. "Need a little grooming, sweetheart?"

Hermione snorted.

"Well, that too, I suppose. But unless the two of you are interested in… oh what did the twins call it? Red Wings? Unless you both want to earn your Red Wings this evening, you'll postpone the ceremony until Tuesday."

Snape's face twisted with disgust.

"Blood is natural, Miss Granger, and not something to be feared during such things," Dumbledore began.

"Yeah. No." Sirius spoke up. "Maybe you haven't been laid in long enough to care one way or the other, Dumbledore, but I've tried Red Winging it before and it was messy as hell. This will be awkward enough without 'Mione being mortified over having her period."

"Severus?" Dumbledore appealed.

"I can give her something to make it stop today, but thorough rinsing would be required to remove all residue," Snape said.

Hermione's cheeks glowed crimson at the causal way the three men discussed her period. She'd been sure that mentioning it at all would deter them all from pushing the issue. Sighing to herself, Hermione didn't know if she ought to be horrified, or grateful that at least the men she'd have to marry could be mature about the natural process her body undertook each month.

"The longer we wait, the more chance that Tom will summon you and ask you to murder them for the sake of weakening Harry. He's tried to get Sirius in the past and has used the notion of Sirius's suffering to lure Harry away from our protection before. I will not risk it."

"You still need to clear him, Albus," Snape replied. "Until he's cleared, marrying him to anyone puts them in danger. Likely that is the goal in mind should we rush this to avoid the Dark Lord's intervention. As soon as he wears the ring, they'll be able to track him."

Dumbledore frowned.

"Very well. My next order of business is with the Ministry, apparently," he muttered. Hermione watched him get to his feet. "Miss Granger, who was Mr Weasley matched to, do you know?"

"Oliver Wood and Katie Bell," Hermione told him. "Actually, that's going to be a problem. Ron still has school and marrying them off to him will put them in danger. They'll likely have to re-locate to either live here in the castle or down in Hogsmeade to meet the ordinance of co-habitation with their spouse. Actually, what about Tonks? I know she's usually on duty around here anyway, but won't she have to move in with Harry and Remus?"

"If Remus is accepting the teaching position alongside me, he'll have quarters here. Spouses are allowed to live with their teacher-counterpart," Sirius told her, still cuddling her to him casually while Snape glared at them. "She'll just have to Floo to work every day like the rest of the teacher's partners do."

"I didn't know any of them had partners," Hermione admitted.

"Most don't," Snape sneered. "In any case, Albus, the matter will have to be put off until late tonight or tomorrow at the earliest. How long will it take you to clear Black?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. He simply scowled with annoyance before leaving the room, Flooing to the Ministry.

"If he can get me off quick sticks I'm going to murder that manipulative old fucker," Sirius muttered when he was gone.

"That you actually believed he couldn't is hilarious," Snape replied.

"Must the two of you constantly bicker?" Hermione sighed. "Can't we just have five minutes of peace where you don't taunt each other?"

"You need to drink this," Snape told her, holding out a phial to her.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"Regular contraceptive. Until you don your ring it will work to cease you period. After that I will have to figure out a way to circumvent the inhibitor imbued in the rings. Do you have them with you?"

Hermione nodded, taking the phial and drinking it before handing it back and fishing the rings from her pocket. She held them out, all three laid on the palm of her small hand. Sirius and Snape both reached for one each and Hermione took note of which each seemed to prefer.

"How long will it take you to brew something to keep her from getting pregnant?" Sirius asked in the closest thing to a polite tone she'd ever heard him use.

"It seems to be a charm designed to supress the black-starwort within a contraceptive potion," he murmured, eyeing the ring and using his wand to peel at the layers of magic imbued in the silver. "If I brew a contraceptive relying on a different abortifacient herb, it should prevent pregnancy."

"How long will that take?" Sirius asked.

"Four hours," Snape shrugged.

"Delightful. I guess you better get started," Hermione muttered. "Sirius are you staying here? If I leave the two of you alone, you'll kill each other."

"Where are you going?" they both asked her simultaneously.

They both glared at each other after speaking too.

"It may be that we're being forced into this wretched marriage against our will, but as has been pointed out, the oaths we take to marry are for life. I might not be able to have my parents there, but you better bet that I'll actually look like a bride."

"You care what you look like to marry Snape?" Sirius asked, sounding like he thought her barmy.

"I'm marrying you too, idiot," she reminded him. "You want me to walk towards you in a fancy white dress or would you prefer I arrive in rags?"

Sirius blinked at the question. Snape curled his lip.

"I hardly care what you wear, _Hermione_ ," Snape sneered at her. "But do take note that unless you are a virgin, wearing white to a magical wedding ceremony is not allowed."

"That's bollocks!" Sirius argued. "Lily was shagging James before they got married and she wore white."

Snape's glare could have killed, she was certain.

"Are you trying to determine whether or not I'm a virgin without having to come right out and ask, Snape?" Hermione smirked at the dark eyed wizard when he glared at Sirius. She wasn't usually one to be quite so blunt, but it was rather amusing right then and there really wasn't time for dancing around such topics.

"Actually, we probably need to know that, love," Sirius said, his mouth by her ear as she leaned back against his chest.

"I hardly see how it matters," Hermione evaded, looking at her feet to hide the embarrassed blush upon her cheeks. The idea of telling both grown wizards – one of whom was her school teacher – about her sex life hardly seemed appropriate.

She squawked when Snape invaded her personal space from the front, his long-fingered hand coming up to grip her chin and tilt her head back. Forcing her gaze up, his eyes bored into hers with such intensity that it took her breath away. Dimly she was aware of the peppermint and herb scent of him, but mostly she was lost in the fathomless depths of her eyes.

Part of her wanted to object the tight hold and the rather terrifying way he invaded her space and made her feel so much like an insolent child even before he opened his mouth. The rest of her simply stood there in awe that anyone could keep such raw power contained within themselves – so carefully controlled and so utterly deadly.

"It matters because the consummation of a marriage bond within the magical world requires that all parties of the bond consummate the union _at the same time_ , you little fool," he hissed into her face, his dark eyes boring into her. Hermione gulped audibly as he unleashed the full intensity of his personality and his presence upon her right in that moment. "It matters because that means the two of us are going to fuck you, simultaneously. It matters because if you're a virgin and either one of us gets carried away under the influence of the bonding magic, you will likely howl in pain. Now, answer the question you stubborn little swot. Are you a virgin?"

Hermione blinked rapidly, feeling the need to back away from him but unable to with Sirius at her blocking her escape and holding her firm.

"Ease up, Sni… Snape," Sirius admonished. "You don't have to terrify her into behaving. She's your bloody betrothed, not one of your infernal students."

"Do _you_ want to fuck her while she cries?" Snape hissed, lifting his gaze to glare over Hermione's head.

"Mate, I've deflowered enough virgins that I know how to do it _without_ hurting them," Sirius rolled his eyes. "The more important question for me is whether _you're_ a virgin."

They were fighting again. Hermione sighed and squeaked when Snape's hand tightened reflexively on her chin.

"I'm not a virgin," she spoke up before Snape could spew vile words over Sirius again.

"You're not?" Sirius asked. He sounded surprised by the idea

Hermione shook her head. "I mean… I wouldn't say I'm that well-travelled, but I've had sex before."

"How many times?" Snape demanded.

"With who?" Sirius wanted to know.

"I don't know… maybe ten times," Hermione whispered, her face bright red in her mortification to admit such a thing to Professor Snape. "Does it really matter who it was with?"

"Yes," said Sirius.

"No," said Snape. "I'll be brewing a potion to cure anything sexually contracted to protect us from Black's whorish past. You will simply take a dose too."

"Oi! I don't bloody have anything. They tested me when they did my health check at the Ministry before I was shipped off to Azkaban." Sirius protested. "Go on, love, tell us who deflowered you?"

Hermione shook her head as much as she could when Snape was still gripping her chin.

"Do you understand what's going to happen to you in order to consummate this ridiculous marriage?" Snape asked her in a silken voice.

"I…." Hermione bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment. "Not really."

Snape lifted his eyes to look at Sirius over her head once more and she felt Sirius shrug.

"Want me to tell her?" Sirius asked.

Snape glanced back at her for a long moment.

"Ten times, you said?" he confirmed.

Hermione nodded, frowning slightly when she saw the faintest crease form between his dark eyebrows.

"Recently? How long would you say it's been since you last had sex, Miss Granger?"

" _Stop_ calling me that when discussing my sex life and invading my personal space, Snape," Hermione practically whimpered. "It's awkward enough without the baggage of you being my teacher."

"Answer the question."

"I… I haven't kept count but I'd say it's probably been a little over a year since I last shagged anyone."

"Ah, fuck," Sirius cursed softly behind her. "Do you at least flick the bean?"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror and she pulled her chin out of Snape's grip to turn and level a horrified expression at Sirius.

"How is _that_ any of your business?" she demanded, her cheeks so hot she was sure she could fry an egg on them.

"Do you understand the meaning of double penetration, _Hermione_?" Snape asked her when Sirius smirked at her.

"Seems rather self-explanatory," Hermione replied evenly.

"You understand then that in order for consummate the marriage you will be required to have not just one but two cocks crammed inside your vagina at the same time?"

"Urgh!" Sirius recoiled. "Damn it, Snape! Don't say _that_ word."

Snape sneered at Sirius for a moment.

Hermione was too busy reeling in shock to prevent them from arguing the temerity of using the clinical description for her anatomy rather than any of the crude labels applied to female genitalia. Two? At the same time? In the same hole?

They wouldn't fit!

Merlin, she'd been mentally preparing since she'd read her letter for the notion of one in each hole or even for being spit-roasted, as Viktor had once called it, but she'd never imagined… both of them inside her quim? There was no way they were going to fit. They'd split her open. She admittedly hadn't seen either wizard naked, but she vividly recalled having sex to exclamations of how 'tight' she'd been and that had been with just one wizard at a time.

Logically it made sense, based on her scientific knowledge of the female reproductive organs than she could and likely would stretch, as occurred during birth. But she didn't delude herself to the belief that the stretching wouldn't hurt like all buggery.

They couldn't actually mean to _both_ stick it in there at the same time, could they? They wouldn't fit. And besides, they could barely tolerate one another in the same room when they weren't touching. They'd be touching private parts!

"But… you won't both fit…" Hermione blurted without thinking, interrupting the argument her wizards were having about the merits of the word snatch over pussy, quim or slit.

"Yes, that's precisely why Black asked if you engage in masturbation. Preferably with some form of penetration," Snape drawled.

"For fuck's sake, Snivell… Snape! Stop making it sound so bloody clinical!" Sirius complained.

Hermione blushed crimson, wondering if Snape was plucking the answers right out of her head as he smirked ever so slightly. The idea of telling them about what she did in private seemed utterly horrid to her and Hermione was beginning to think they wouldn't need to worry about the wedding at all. She was going to die of embarrassment before they could bother with it.

"I… um… well…" Hermione frowned. "I mean I…"

"Yes, yes, everybody jacks off, swot. Do you stick anything inside yourself or just torment your clit?" Snape clarified.

"Bloody hell! You're the _worst_ at dirty talk, mate," Sirius criticized. "Do me a favour and leave the dirty talk to me, yeah? How anyone with a voice like yours doesn't understand the art of decent dirty talk is bloody beyond me!"

Snape bared his teeth at Sirius like a mongrel dog, which struck Hermione as rather ironic.

"I assure you, Black, I am perfectly capable of talking just about anyone out of their knickers when the need arises. I am trying to minimise the girl's discomfort given who _you_ are to her and who _I_ am to her. She hardly wants to blurt out all her secrets like this, you wretched fool."

"I doubt you can talk a loaf of bread out of its bag, Snape," Sirius retorted.

Hermione suspected that Sirius might've just walked right into a trap when Snape's fingers returned to her jaw, smoothing along it slowly. He peered into her eyes for a moment, looking positively wicked before lifting them to meet Sirius's gaze.

"Sirius?" he purred in a low, velvety voice that practically vibrated with desire. "I want you to smooth your hands down Hermione's sides. Feel the petite dip of her waist. Can you feel the soft curve of her arse against your cock when she leans on you like that?"

Sirius, seemingly without prompting, trailed his fingertips down her side, pressing just hard enough to touch her flesh and feel her shape through her shirt.

"Hermione?" Snape asked in the same voice that made something inside her warm deliciously. She felt Sirius press against her a little more insistently, rubbing himself against her backside.

"Yes?" Hermione whispered, aware of her breathlessness but unable to slow the sudden skittering of her heart.

"Answer my question. What do you do when you masturbate?" Snape asked, his voice low and husky and so intimate that it made her feel like she was going to swoon at any moment. Bloody hell, he was right. He could probably talk just about anyone out of their knickers.

"I use my fingers," she admitted without thinking, apparently having taken leave of her senses.

"Why do you do with your fingers?" he asked, his own fingers smoothly along the length of her jaw in a caress that almost knocked her knees out from under her for the effect it had.

"Um… I tease my clit," she admitted.

"Do you work them inside yourself?"

Sirius's arm around her from behind tightened, pressing her back against him more snugly. She could feel the effects of his apparent desire growing against her bum.

"Yes," Hermione whispered.

"How many finger do you use, Hermione?" Snape asked. "Do you go slow? Long deep thrusts, or short shallow ones?"

"Both. Usually two fingers," Hermione answered, finding her own hands drifting towards him until she gripped his waist through his clothes.

If he minded he didn't let on, though he did smirk.

"Sirius, do you think that her two nimble little digits will prepare her for the feel of two cocks filling her up?" Snape purred, lifting his gaze to Sirius once more. His eyes and his voice were enchanting, bewitching both Hermione and Sirius.

"No," Sirius answered. "Maybe spit-roasting her would be better?"

"The ritual doesn't recognise it unless proper intercourse is engaged by all parties. Tell me, Hermione, do you _want_ to have sex with me?" Snape purred, his fingers trailing the length of her jaw before sliding into her hair even as she found herself pulling him closer to her.

"I…"

"Oi!" Sirius shook himself behind her, tightening his grip on her. "Knock it off, yeah? We get your point. I take back what I bloody said. Don't go starting anything you're not willing to finish right now, yeah?"

Snape's wicked smirk and the way he withdrew easily left Hermione's head spinning and her knickers damp.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello everyone. I'm sorry that this felll far outside my attempted weekly update schedule. Sirius didn't want to play nice and Real Life got a bit crazy with my work hours all over the place. I've been functioning on about 3 hours sleep a night for the past 2 weeks. Anyway, it's finally here. Many thanks to all who read and especially those who review.**

 **mMch love! xx-Kitten**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

* * *

Sirius Black wondered if it was actually possible to be this attracted to someone you loathed so much. It couldn't be healthy. The fucker had the most alluring voice on the planet and, much to Sirius's dismay, he knew how to use it. He hated him. Fuck, he _hated_ him. He hated Snape more than almost anyone else on the planet.

Indeed, there were only two people he hated more. Voldemort, for killing James and Lily, and generally being a megalomanic bent on world domination. And Peter Pettigrew because the cowardly scumbag had pretended to be their friend for months – maybe even years – and the whole time he was playing for the opposition, wriggling around like the worthless rat he was and ruining their lives. Yeah, he hated Voldemort for casting the killing curses, but he hated Peter even more because if not for that cunt, James and Lily might have survived. He _would_ get his revenge and he was wondering if a perk of this forced marriage with Snivellus might just let him finally get his hands on the fucker one more time.

"Right," Hermione muttered, obviously reeling as much as Sirius was himself thanks to Snape's dirty talk. She quivered in Sirius's grip before pulling out of his hold. "Well, on that note… I'm um… I'm going to go. Dress. I need a wedding dress. And… maybe a cold shower."

She crossed the stone floor of Snape's quarters muttering to herself as though they wouldn't hear her.

"If you're getting a dress, _Hermione_ ," Snivellus interrupted her before she could leave through the door back to the rest of the castle. It was obvious to Sirius that the bastard took perverse pleasure in using her first name for the way she blushed and shivered every time he said it. "Might I suggest a trip to London, and an exit through the Floo, rather than a trip back to Gryffindor Tower?"

Hermione stopped, rooted on the spot for a moment before she looked over at the hook-nosed git.

"I need my purse," she said as though it were explanation enough. She was obviously shaken up over their discussion of how they would consummate their marriage and more than a little aroused after Snape's display. Sirius didn't blame her.

He watched as she left the room without another word, the door clicking closed softly behind her. Snape swept away from him and off into a different room once she was gone. Sirius thought seriously about leaving – returning to Grimmauld Place to break up the domestic he didn't doubt Remus and Tonks would be having over the notion of _their_ union. He bit his bottom lip, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing between the fireplace and the door to what he suspected must be a potions lab.

He should talk to the fucker, as much as he didn't want to. They were worse than chalk and cheese, or oil and water. He and Snape were more the fire and gasoline combination. Explosive, dangerous, and not to be allowed near one another. That wasn't going to stop the Ministry, it seemed, and so he figured it might be time to man up and sort a thing or two out with Snape if this was going to work.

And fuck it all, Sirius wanted it to work. He wanted to murder Snape, but if this bloody marriage would clear his name, set him free _and_ get him a job at the school with his best mate where he could watch over his godson, he'd fucking do it. Hell, the idea that he'd get to shag Hermione was another unexpected perk, but he was trying not to focus on that too hard.

Cursing softly, Sirius made his way to the door of Snivellus's lab, taking a moment to scan the place with his eyes. It was neat, everything inside it properly stored, labelled and arranged for maximum efficiency. Not that Sirius was surprised; for all that he'd looked ratty and unclean during their shared time at school, Snape had never come across as the sloppy or messy type. Sirius wondered if the other man was aware of his presence.

He stood with his back to Sirius, his long-fingered, bony hands working diligently, preparing ingredients and prepping the workstation for his newest brewing project. Sirius was man enough to admit that if anyone's hands had ever seemed suited to an art-form such as potion making, it was Snape's.

"What are you going to put in it?" he asked quietly, noting that Snape didn't jump and was apparently aware of his presence despite Sirius's uninterrupted scrutiny.

"I'm hardly going to poison the witch, Black," Snape said, ever on the defensive. "As has been rightly pointed out, doing away with her would not guarantee that I would also be rid of you."

"If I'd thought you planned to poison her, I'd have hexed you in the back," Sirius rolled his eyes. "Try to curb your suspiciousness for a few minutes and explain the potion to me."

"Why?" Snape asked, pausing in his work to glance over his shoulder at Sirius where he'd propped his shoulder in the doorway. He raised one eyebrow, seeming guardedly curious.

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "Might help knowing what's in it. Might help to discuss it. Me and Prongs always did our best work bouncing ideas of each other. Saying them out loud helps to eliminate the truly stupid ones."

Snape curled his lip, his eyes flashing with hatred and Sirius recognised his mistake immediately. He shouldn't have brought up Prongs. He might loathe Snape immensely himself, and have earned the man's hatred in return, but the enmity between Snape and James had always run even hotter than the dislike between Sirius and Severus.

"I am not the thick-headed excuse for a wizard you called a best friend, Black. I don't require the bouncing of ideas to know what is and is not a good decision."

"Doubt it," Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes, sensing the conversation was going to go to shit, just the way it always did.

"Why are you still here?" Snape demanded, turning toward him, his eyes narrowed hatefully. Sirius noticed that he had his wand clutched in his grip, ready to train it on him and hex him into oblivion.

"Maybe you missed it," Sirius sighed. "But you and I are supposed to be bloody married, Sni… Snape."

Snape narrowed his eyes, apparently sensing that there was more to what Sirius was saying though he'd yet to voice it.

"Much as I'll hex you if you tell her I said so, Hermione's right. You and I in any combination is a wretchedly dangerous equation and things would be much easier all around if we could at least try to settle some of our differences without bloodshed," Sirius said, watching Snape as the other wizard watched him.

"You believe it possible?" Snape asked archly.

Sirius sighed, pushing away from the doorframe and striding deeper into the lab, noting the way Snape's hackles all but rose at the invasion of his territory. Sirius catalogued the reaction, suspecting that though he wasn't a werewolf, Snape was as territorial as Moony over what was perceived his private places. And not the ones on his person. Sirius himself had never really experienced the urge to not let people into his space on a physical level and he'd never had a place he considered wholly his own that he was unwilling to share.

Moony, on the other hand, got funny about anyone going into his room. Even with Sirius, sometimes. Even when he'd been invited in, there were times when Sirius entered Remus's bedroom and found Remus tense and uncomfortable, wanting to drive him out of that space. Snape clearly felt that way about his lab and Sirius thought about making things easier for the git by complying to his unspoken suggestion to get the hell out, but damn it all, they had business to discuss and since the man was unlikely to leave the lab with a potion to brew, it would just have to take place here.

"Honestly, no, Snape. I don't think it's entirely possible for you and I to put our long and ugly history behind us. Attempts on the other's lives aside, however, there are a few things that we need to straighten out," Sirius said, moving over to the other side of the room where he'd spied a stool. He picked it up and carried it back to the brewing bench, setting it down on the far side of it and perching on it before staring at Snape searchingly as he went back to prepping ingredients, one eye on Sirius himself.

"What do you imagine we could possibly attempt to put behind us, Black?" Snape sneered. "Even setting aside the attempt to murder one another, there is a collection of other offences between us. Shall I apologise for hexing you stupid more times than I count? Or should we compare score-cards and figure out just who hexed whom the most often?"

Sirius wanted to snarl at the man but he reminded himself that cooperation would earn him his freedom.

"I don't need your apology for the hexes. It would be insincere, at best. I do offer one, though," Sirius said quietly. "We were right gits to you for no decent reason. Blame it on schoolboy pig-headedness, James's jealousy over your friendship with Lily, or even on the notion that we were no-good bullies picking on the kid who looked different. That's how it started, and I'd like to think you recognise that."

Snape curled his lip at the mention of James, his eyes flashing with pain over the use of Lily's name. Sirius wasn't surprised learn the git still carried a torch for her, even years after her death.

"That said, we took it too far. We hounded you relentlessly. In the beginning I reckon it was done with the attempt most snot-nosed kids have picking on the weird kid. Don't curl your lip at me, mate. You were the weird kid in our year and you know it. You were too bloody smart, too well versed in the Dark Arts, your clothes didn't fit right and your hair needed washing. Childhood experience teaches most kids that pointing out someone's flaws sees them correct them. On a playground picking on the kid who doesn't bath often enough tends to result in them bathing more frequently, when they are capable.

"I suppose we thought that doing it to you might actually make you wash your hair. You were clever enough with a wand that you could've charmed it less greasy. You could have charmed your clothes to be less oversized and less ratty, too. That mean personality wasn't going anywhere, obviously, but there were things you could have done to attract less attention."

Snape's eyes glittered their hatred from the far side of the work bench.

"Don't look at me like that," Sirius warned him, keeping his tone neutral, trying to explain why they'd done what they did and how he might've attempted to improve things for himself.

"I washed my hair every day while I was here at school," Snape answered quietly in return. "I even cooked up a potion that was supposed to remove the oiliness. When you spend more than an hour a day with your head hanging over a cauldron, however, it tends to get dirty."

Sirius blinked in surprise to learn that.

"You brewed every day? Even when we didn't have Potions?" he asked.

Snape narrowed his eyes further. "I didn't actually get this good at it without a little practice, Black. Childhood pettiness does not excuse the hounding you lot gave me every day."

"I know," Sirius sighed. "In the beginning that's all it was. Until you fought back. Then it was more like a group of cats playing with a mouse."

"A pack of wolves, more like," Snape muttered.

"True enough, the canine tendency of a wolf-pack to nip, taunt, and provoke our prey took over us a time or two," Sirius admitted. "We were dumb kids. Worse, you actually fought back. And you were mean about it. You gave as good as you got – maybe not with humiliating us with stupid taunts, but don't pretend you didn't flick as many curses at us as you caught."

"I see, blaming the victim?" Snape sneered. "I deserved it, did I? For seeking to defend myself against four obnoxious attackers."

"I didn't say it wasn't right of you to stand up for yourself, mean about it as you were, only that it provoked us all the more. You and Lily being close was another sore point when Prongs fell for her. You know it was, and your own jealousy whenever she spoke to anyone but you was just one more thing to use against you. Look, I'm not saying we weren't all right little cockheads, Snape. We were. And I'm sorry we were so bloody cruel to you over things you mostly couldn't help. Not that you didn't deserve some of it, the older we got."

Snape curled his lip. When he didn't speak, Sirius suspected he knew that no matter how it had started, the years of torment and enmity had been earned, to a degree. They'd done terrible things to one another and Sirius knew they both had the scars to prove it.

"You think a half-arsed attempt at excusing your behaviour will make this any easier?" Snape asked, eyeing him over the top of the cauldron as he began to brew.

"Not really," Sirius sighed. "Look, we've been bloody wankers to one another. There's not much for it."

"The hatred between the two of us stems from more than schoolyard rivalry, Black."

Sirius nodded his head. He watched the man wield a silver dagger with wicked precision as he chopped tansy. He knew the cause of their biggest issue, and he didn't want to voice it any more than Snape wanted to hear it.

"You blame me for Lily's death," Sirius acknowledged heavily when Snape had laid down the knife. He jerked hard at the mention. "I could argue that Wormtail was the Secret Keeper, that _he_ sold them out, that he's to blame. And it would be true. But it was _my_ idea to make him Secret Keeper. It was _my_ arrogance that let me believe that fucker worshipped us, rather than that he'd turned on us. It's what got me convicted in the first place. I as good as killed them the minute I suggested him over me."

Snape was eyeing him like he might hex him for the admission.

"But do _not_ lay that blame solely at my feet, Snape," Sirius went on coolly. "Wormtail owns most of it for selling them out and being the coward he turned out to be, rather than the man that James, Lily, Remus and I believed him to be. And don't you dare lay it all on me when it was _your_ words to Lord Fuckface that drove him to hunt the Potters in the first place. You didn't know it at the time, I'll grant, but I didn't fucking know about Peter. My mistake was innocent in that I believed a man better than he proved. You, on the other hand, condemned _someone_ the minute you told Voldemort what you'd overheard of the prophecy. You didn't fucking care whose life you'd consigned to death until you realised Lily was in danger. And you didn't fucking switch sides until _after_ Moldyshorts killed her. What did he promise you? That he'd kill James and Harry and spare Lily? That he'd let you have her instead?"

Snape's wand was raised and aimed at him before Sirius could finish his sentence and he knew his accusation was true. Anger boiled through him, threatening to overflow into the rage that sparked so easily within him

"Put it down," Sirius commanded. "I reckon you're a twisted fucker for thinking she'd have just fallen into your arms after you got her husband and her son killed, but what's done is done, Snape. We don't have to fucking like it – and trust me, I'm still thinking about hexing you into your grave for what you did because if not for you, James and Lily would be alive. But, if not for me, they might be, too. We're, neither of us, blameless in this. But she's gone, it's done, and I'd appreciate it if we could put that to rest. I don't like it and I doubt I'll ever forgive you for costing me my best friend. But I know there's nothing that we can do to fix it and bring them back, and I know that seeking revenge against you won't actually make me feel any better."

Snape's narrowed his eyes, lowering his wand slowly.

"And Wormtail?" he asked carefully.

" _He_ will pay," Sirius growled darkly, letting the full force of his fury and his rage at Wormtail surface in his expression and in his eyes. Snape examined it carefully and Sirius wondered at the acceptance there when he didn't shrink back in the face of Sirius's plan to murder a man he'd once considered one of his very best friends.

"I can't forgive you, either," Snape said after a long silence but for the soft tinkle of the silver stirring rod against the edge of the cauldron he stirred. "But… I would appreciate the chance to… assist in seeking revenge upon that snivelling rat."

Sirius almost snorted at the idea of Snape using the word 'snivelling' but refrained.

"Deal," he nodded, leaning forward and offering Snape his hand to shake. Snape looked wary as though expecting a prank, even after all this time. Seeing none, the other wizard leaned forward carefully and shook his hand.

"Now," Sirius said, grinning just a bit. "About this marriage thing…"

"If you're about to proposition me, Black," Snape warned. "I _will_ find something to shove up your arse and you _won't_ like it."

Sirius snorted. "Nothing in that bloody contract about us actually fucking each other in the sense of anything in anyone's arse, mate."

Snape curled his lip.

"You realise that to consummate this thing we're going to have to…" he trailed of, curling his lip a little in revulsion.

"Touch cocks?" Snape filled in for him, smirking cruelly at the faintest slash of colour on Sirius's cheeks.

"Yeah," Sirius admitted. "Wouldn't exactly be thrilled over the idea even if you were someone I actually fancied. This is going to be bloody awkward, so the less animosity, the better, yeah?"

"Do you have a point with this conversation?" Snape asked. "Beyond stating the obvious?"

"You got any ideas about making this as painless as possible? Particularly for Hermione. Bad enough for you and I, what with it having been a while since I got laid… and you…?"

"Are you asking when I last fucked someone, Black?" Snape smirked.

"I am, actually. You _have_ actually shagged before, yeah?" Sirius confirmed.

"More frequently than you in the last fifteen years," Snape smirked.

"Ever shared a witch with another bloke?" Sirius confirmed.

"Once," Snape admitted. "It wasn't an experience I was interested in repeating when he got handsie with me."

Sirius smirked.

"Who was it?" he asked nosily.

"How is that any of your business?"

"I'll tell you who I shared," Sirius bargained.

"I don't believe I have that kind of time," Snape drawled. "Whore."

Sirius flipped him the bird. "Don't be jealous, mate. It's unattractive. Last time I shares a witch with anyone is was… er… actually, I don't reckon you want to know, now that I think about it."

Sirius suspected that admitting to having shagged Lily with James one night when they'd been eighteen wasn't the best idea.

"Who?" Snape asked, his eyes narrowing at Sirius sudden reluctance.

"You'll get upset if I tell you," Sirius warned. "The point is that you understand the mechanics, yeah? Wait… when you shared someone did you both fuck the same hole, or….?"

"Did you?" Snape asked in a low, deadly voice.

"Let's say I got the full service with that one and leave it there," Sirius said. "Before you hex me."

Snape's expression darkened with fury.

"You fucked _her_?" he breathed, his eyes blazing.

"We agreed on not sharing names," Sirius said, pulling his wand from his pocket as a precaution, anticipating a hex.

"When?" Snape wanted to know, his voice sounding strangely tight.

"My nineteenth birthday," Sirius sighed. "He talked her into it because they were both curious about a _menage au tois_ and knew I was whore enough to help out. Wanted to do it with someone they both trusted."

"You…" Snape looked angry and perhaps a little hurt. Sirius eyed him carefully. "She…? She was… willing to…?"

Sirius realised that not only was he angry at the idea that Sirius had got to do something he knew the bastard had wanted to do himself – minus Prongs, obviously – but he was also shocked at the idea that Lily was perhaps not the same girl he remembered.

"Lily was…" Sirius searched for the right word. "Curious, I guess would be the best word for it. She didn't… ah…. Well she was by no means loose or anything, but she wasn't shy about trying new things and James was… keen."

"Did you fuck him, too?" Snape asked, his voice strangely detached.

Sirius looked away.

"Does it matter?" Sirius asked quietly.

"Yes," Snape said.

"Why?" Sirius wanted to know, glancing back at the man. "Will it make you feel better to think that I fucked Lily and James, rather than just Lily?"

"I wondered how far in that direction you swung, actually," Snape said mildly.

Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, suspecting Snape was thinking just what Sirius was thinking on that particular subject and suspicious over how well he was taking the notion that Lily had been different from the girl he thought he knew.

"We were all pretty drunk," Sirius offered quietly, looking down at his lap for a moment, recalling the debauchery he, James and Lily had gotten into that night.

"So you fucked him… or did he fuck you? I don't imagine Potter was too keen on the idea of turn your head and cough," Snape sneered, curling his lip.

"Are you?" Sirius asked, looking back at the man.

"Propositioning me now?" Snape smirked. "I know it's been a long time, Black, but surely that is beneath even you?"

"Fuck off," Sirius grumbled. "Just tell me if you're going to try and stab me when our dicks are rubbing together squeezed into the tight little cunt of a witch who might as well be virginal for all her limited experience. She's going to be nervous as hell and clenched up, tense and awkward and bloody uncomfortable, and I'd rather focus on making her feel good so we don't hurt her, rather than worrying over how you'll react to being right up in there with me."

Snape curled his lip in disgust.

"Must you constantly be uncouth?" he demanded.

"As if you're not? You were the one asking if she understood the idea of having two cocks crammed into her pussy at the same time."

"I used the word vagina," Snape corrected and Sirius hissed at him.

"Well bloody _don't_ use it again, you git! It's the worst word in the English language."

"I disagree," Snape said primly. "I find the word 'moist' to be far more uncomfortable."

Sirius shuddered.

"Whatever. You're twisted. Who'd you have a threesome with?"

"You believe I would share that with the likes of you?" Snape arched one eyebrow wickedly.

"I told you mine," Sirius protested. "Bet is was Malfoy and Cissy, wasn't it?"

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly and Sirius knew it to be true. He chuckled.

"Well, isn't this fun?" he muttered darkly. "I fuck the witch of your twisted fantasies and you fuck my cousin. I don't particularly _want_ the details, but did you double her cunt?"

"It wasn't pleasant," Snape curled his lips.

"Felt a bit like being squished into a package of hotdogs?" Sirius offered. "But… kind of good too. Hurt a bit at the wrong angle, but the added friction and tightness wasn't all bad."

Snape looked revolted by the analogy, though he nodded in agreement.

"Disturbing analogies aside, I've no idea how to cajole Miss Granger into being comfortable. I don't imagine any of us will be, given the circumstances," Snape said, adding more ingredients to the potion and stirring it counter-clockwise. "The idea of slipping her a mild dose of love potion occurred to me…"

Sirius frowned.

"She'd kill the pair of us for that," Sirius said. "At least, she would if she didn't have the chance to consent to ingesting it… perhaps we all should take some?"

Snape flicked his eyes up to look at him for a moment at the suggestion, frowning slightly.

"I don't like the idea much," Sirius held his hands up. "But I also really don't much fancy the idea of repeating what happened the last time you and I were in a situation that called for snogging, let alone shagging."

Sirius supposed, when the cauldron full of potion slipped off the desk and splattered across the floor, that mentioning last time was, perhaps, an ill-conceived idea.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** **I'd apologise for the cliffie on the last one, but I'm not sorry. LOL. I can't WAIT to see what you make of this chapter, y'all. Thanks for all the love and reviews.**

 **xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

* * *

Severus glared at Black as the cauldron toppled from the table thanks to the startled reaction he'd had to the man's casual mention of last time.

 _Last time_.

That had been a bloody wretched day. He growled under his breath at the animgaus across the room as he recalled just what had happened the last time he'd been forced into anything intimate with Sirius Black. It was a memory he'd done his damnedest to drink out of his head and one he'd buried deep, _deep_ within his psyche where it couldn't infuriate him all over again.

The last time he and Black had been intimate had been, debatably, one of the worst days of his life. Trapped under cursed mistletoe in the corridors on the fifth floor that led to the Transfigurations classrooms during his sixth year, Severus had never loathed any plant more than mistletoe. Worse, by then he'd been a pariah within the entire school, having been abandoned by Lily for his slip of the tongue in fifth year and having made an utter arse of himself trying to convince her to forgive him for what he'd said.

No matter the number of other students who'd walked under the mistletoe where he'd been trapped, their friends had been quick to rescue them before they would be forced to snog him. Severus's cheeks warmed, even more than twenty years later, to think of the humiliation and degradation he'd suffered that day. Ignored by every witch in the bloody school, even the teachers. Taunted by the likes of Black, Potter, Lupin and Pettigrew. He'd been stuck under that mistletoe so long he'd been certain he'd die of starvation or that his bladder would burst. All day he'd stood there, furious, trapped, unable to get free because no one wanted to touch him or even look at him, let alone snog him.

No one, that is, until a few minutes before curfew that evening after he'd missed lunch _and_ dinner. He'd been sure that, eventually, a teacher might spot him and take pity on him, doing whatever magic there was that might rid the castle of the mistletoe and thus, set him free. No one had saved him.

Not until Black had returned shortly before curfew, appearing from under Potter's invisibility cloak at the end of the corridor while he was still trapped. Severus recalled drawing his wand, thinking the bastard meant to taunt him all the more, and by then furious enough to do something about ending his ability to taunt anyone, ever again.

 _"_ _Alright there, Snape?" Black taunted, smirking a little and flicking his eyes up to the mistletoe over his head, strolling down the corridor with all the grace of a big cat._

 _"_ _Fuck you!" Severus spat, hissing at him, hating him. He was certain the plant had been put there by the Marauders. He was certain the wretch had come to torment him again, as he'd done repeatedly throughout the day, claiming that no one in their right mind would want to get within three feet of him._

 _"_ _That's hardly a polite display of gratitude to the bloke who's going to save you from wetting yourself in this corridor, Snivellus," Black drawled, strolling closer all the time, looking amused by his fury._

 _"_ _You… what?" Severus's eyes went wide, certain he must be growing delirious from hunger._

 _Before he could process what Black meant to do, the wretch stepped under the mistletoe with him, invading his personal space. Severus didn't have time to even raise his wand or hex Black before there were suddenly hands tangled in his oily hair, and lips crashing down on his. Too startled to think, Severus stood there stupidly, unable to process the idea of another boy's lips pressed to his. Of_ anyone's _lips pressed to his, really. He certainly didn't know how to react or what to do, having never actually snogged anyone before that very moment._

 _His gasp of shock, belated as it was, parted his lips and he wasn't sure what happened when Black's tongue slipped inside his mouth to tangle with his own. His lips were a little rough, chapped as though he'd been worrying at them with his teeth. He tasted of Sugar Mice and smelled faintly of wet dog under the scents of engine oil, cigarettes and leather. His tongued slithered against Severus's and Severus didn't know what came over him even as his back hit the wall of the corridor and the other boy leaned into him, snogging him firmly, wildly, as though he'd lost track of just what he was doing, and with whom._

 _Severus was aware of some vague sound escaping him when Black licked at his tongue, tasting, touching, sliding hotly against his. It felt strange. It felt_ good _. When his wand clattered on the stone floor and his hands fisted in the leather of Black's jacket, he was certain he'd lost his mind. When the other boy ground his pelvis against Severus's, he was certain delirium had him firmly in her grip. The nip to his bottom lip stung and the scrape of teeth on teeth grated his senses even as he snogged back, inept at best, but suddenly extremely willing to learn._

 _Black's education was obviously far more well-rounded than his own and Severus's heart kicked out a rapid, terrified, excited beat within his chest as he kissed back, learning the feel of warm tongue, soft lips and slow, maddening kisses. Dimly he was aware that other parts of his anatomy were reacting to the caress; the warmth; the thrill. And_ his _body wasn't the only one. The grind of Black's pelvis against his own told tales that Severus wasn't the only one affected by the snog._

 _When Black broke the fervent snog several delirium-inducing minutes later, Severus was breathing hard and he uttered a soft sound at the feel of Black's hands, tight in his hair, pulling his head back and to the side to expose his throat before the other boy kissed along the length of his jaw and down the side of his neck, latching onto his pulse point and sucking hard enough to leave a mark._

Severus shook himself, trying to rid himself of the memory as he focused on what had followed. The searching, slightly confused look Black had given him when Severus had come to his senses and shoved both hands against Black's chest, pushing him away. The employment of his newest spell, _Sectumsempra,_ and the devastating effect of the spell as it slashed across Black's chest, abdomen and left thigh. The agonised shout Black had given as he stumbled back in shock and pain, falling to the floor from the blow of the spell. The blood that spilled, crimson and terrible across the floor of the corridor, congealing around the lumps of scattered mistletoe.

He recalled the panic when he'd spied the remnants of the mistletoe, realising that if he just walked away and left Black to die, everyone would know he'd freed Severus from the mistletoe. People would know they'd snogged. Severus still recalled the cold way he'd sung the counter-curse over the rapidly paling Black heir, healing the wound to keep him from death, no matter that he wanted to deliver Black to Death's willing embrace. He even recalled the cold, furious threat that if it weren't for the fact that people would know it had been him, he'd leave him there to die and that if Black every tried anything like that again or spoke to him, he'd ensure that next time, the spell would claim him.

No, discussion of _last time_ was not open for debate. Black was right, however, a repeat of last time would, undoubtedly, be a bad thing.

"As I doubt there will be mistletoe involved," Severus said in a tight voice, refusing to look at Black while he spoke. "I hardly think that any repeat of last time will occur."

"Suggesting that love potion would be a bloody terrible idea," Sirius muttered, and Severus flicked his wand to clean up the mess he'd made of the potion. He was furious, not just at the mention of last time, but also at the fact that its mention had caused such a loss of control. He hadn't ruined a potion like this in years, confound it all!

"I hardly think all three of us being under the effects of Amortentia would be conducive to keeping Miss Granger from harm," Severus drawled, trying to cover the fact that he'd reacted so poorly as to lose control this way.

"You really need to stop calling her that, Snape," Black frowned at him. "She's not your bloody student anymore. She's your fiancé. You need to use her first name or this mess will be even more fucked up than it already is."

"She will need to come to terms with the amount of torment she will receive when you are also made a teacher at this school and she's married to the pair of us. I can hear the students now, claiming her grades have always been so high as a result of bribing her teachers with sex."

"See to it that they don't come from you, mate," Sirius threatened softly. "Or I'll see to it that you walk bow-legged into every one of your bloody classes from here on out, clear?"

"Propositioning me again, Black?" Severus drawled.

"Eat me, Sni… Snape."

Severus thought about hissing at the man for his continued slip-ups when he almost used the hated nickname, rather than his surname or first name, but thought better of it, given that he was actually making a conscious effort to correct himself.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Severus sneered.

"Fucker, I _will_ find a way to make you as uncomfortable as you make me," Black warned him. "I'm just pointing out that you've a barbed bloody tongue and at time you wield it with devastating effect. I'm not above taking advantage of Hermione if you make her feel two feet tall. I'll build her right back up and she'll end up loving me and loathing you.

"Tell me," Severus said quietly, watching the man and ignoring the suggestions about Granger and about his penchant for ripping people apart with a few, well placed sentences. " _Last time_ …was the mistletoe a Marauder prank? I've always wondered."

Black's eyes widened slightly.

"You want to know if we trapped you under the bloody thing on purpose?" Sirius asked, refusing to look at him suddenly. "Why would we want to inflict the potential of having to snog you on anyone?"

"Why would _you_ come back just before curfew, rather than letting me be caught out after curfew and punished?" Severus countered.

"Wanted to check and see if anyone had freed you," Black shrugged.

"You could've confirmed that without coming out from under that infernal cloak," Severus said.

Black's eyes narrowed slightly. "I was on my way back from the kitchens," he said. "I didn't go there _just_ to check on you."

"Why come out then?" Severus asked. "You didn't have to show yourself to ascertain that I was still stuck, Black. You certainly didn't have to snog me."

Black's face turned pink and Severus narrowed his eyes on the other man. It had always bothered him what had happened that day in the corridor and he'd never been able to pinpoint why Black would've snogged him. He'd certainly not done it for the sake of tormenting him, since he'd never told anyone, as far as Severus knew. He'd never reported the fact that Severus had almost killed him. Indeed, his only retaliation for the entire encounter had been to feed Severus just enough information to send him down the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack at the next full moon, almost getting him killed by Lupin.

Which was actually something else that had bothered him, beyond the fury and terror at almost being killed by a raging werewolf. It had always baffled him that, as protective as the Marauders had been of their resident lycanthrope and his secret, Black would risk harming his friend, knowing Lupin would never forgive himself or his friends for Severus's death.

" _Did_ you leave the plant there specifically to trap me?" he asked quietly. "Did you taunt me and warn everyone else away from snogging me to set me free with the intention of coming back later, when no one would know…"

"You've had your head stuck over cauldrons, breathing in the fumes too long, Snivellus," Black said, getting to his feet and refusing to make eye contact, obviously not trusting him enough not to use Legilimency.

He made for the door quickly, intending to leave. Severus stepped into the doorway to stop him before he could.

"Why?" he asked in a low voice, his brow furrowed in confusion. Were it anyone else, Severus would've said that no one would go to that much trouble to get someone alone and in a position where snogging was required unless they fancied whomever they trapped.

But this was Sirius Black. The man who had tormented him mercilessly for years on end; every time he spotted him, ruining his day, making him mad enough to kill, more often than not. There could be no easy explanation like simple fancying of someone to explain this away. Black's gaze darted up to his for a minute when he found himself trapped before he looked back at his feet.

"Doesn't matter now, does it?" he asked tightly.

"Apparently it does," Severus said, narrowing his eyes slowly and letting his voice drop into the silken purr he so often used to seduce the Dark Lord to his way of thinking. "Tell me why you trapped me there. Was it all some elaborate prank? Or did you actually intend to get me alone so you could kiss me?"

A shiver raced over the other man visibly and Severus smirked to know his voice really did work on _everyone_.

"It was stupid," Black said stubbornly. "Just… forget I mentioned it. Forget it ever happened."

"Believe me, I've tried," Severus purred quietly. "Why, Sirius?"

His head jerked up, eyes wide and surprised, when Severus used his given name and Severus struck, slipping into his mind and rifling for the memory he sought. When he found it, his brow furrowed all the more.

 _Black, stealing the Invisibility cloak while Potter was distracted. Making excuses to Lupin about needing something from the kitchens to get away. Slipping through the corridors back to the fifth floor. Approaching the spot where Severus stood, notably agitated and still trapped. The corridor, deserted but for the two of them._

"Stop!" Black snapped, shoving both hands against his chest and forcing him back at step, forcing him out of his head.

"You planned it," Severus accused. " _Why_?"

"Figure it out, you greasy fucking git!" Black snarled, apparently not taking well to having his mind invaded. "Get the fuck out of my way. And don't _ever_ invade my mind again, Snivellus."

He shoved hard enough that Severus stumbled back and the wretch slipped past him. Severus caught his arm, frowning and refusing to let him leave. Black drew his wand. Severus clutched his own, lifting it to aim at the other man, before stopping when he saw the look on Black's face. Severus would swear he caught a flash of vulnerability in the other man's eyes before they narrowed and suddenly everything clicked into place.

The way Black's habit of hounding him had increased ten-fold in sixth year. The fact that everywhere he went, the other boy showed up, taunting him, teasing him, demanding his attention. The slightly confused and perhaps _hurt_ expression on his face when Severus had pushed him away in the corridor before cursing him that day. The look in his eyes when Severus had begrudgingly healed him after almost killing him. Severus had taken it for burning rage, at the time, but now it seemed like much more that rage. It had been… betrayal.

"You…?" Severus's face went slack with shock, his grip loosening as he realised. Black's cheeks were red as he jerked his arm from Severus's grip and strode toward the fire.

Severus's mind was racing, trying to make sense of it all.

"When you told me how to get into the Shrieking Shack on the full moon…?" Severus called, stopping him before he could leave. That was the part that didn't add up. His mind was telling him that all of Black's actions pointed to the notion that Black had fancied him – that he'd gone out of his way to get Severus alone to snog him and figure out if he fancied him back. Only the very next week, when the moon was full, Black had sent him into that tunnel to face Lupin, transformed.

Black paused, his back to Severus as he reached for the bottle of whiskey he'd abandoned earlier.

"You nearly killed me with that hex of yours," Black said, his voice cold and his expression angry when he turned around. "I've _still_ got the scar. You nearly fucking _killed_ me, and you pointedly said that you'd have let me die there if people wouldn't have figured out just how you got free of that fucking mistletoe."

Severus flinched when Black jerked up the hem of his shirt, revealing his wash-board abs, protruding ribs and the number of tattoos and scars adorning his flesh. Slashed across the middle of his chest and across his stomach were two long thin cuts, diagonally crisscrossing his flesh. They were much to thin and too precise to be inflicted by werewolf claws, though many of his other scars were, undoubtedly, earned that way. They were white and faded, but they were still there.

"I nearly bled out on that fucking floor and it was only your sense of self-preservation that saved me," Black said, eyes glittering hatred all over again. "The way my seventeen year old self figured it, you _deserved_ the wretched and painful death you'd have died in Moony jaws if Prongs hadn't saved your miserable life."

With that he dropped his shirt, spun on his heels, and stepped into the fire, dropping a handful of powder and Flooing away in a whoosh of green flames.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: *tiptoes in and drops off the newest chapter***

 ***scuttles away before you throw things***

 **xx-Kitten**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINE**

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure she could return to the dungeons and face Snape or Sirius again so soon, but she really _did_ need to get a dress if she was going to be married in short order. Biting her lip, she tossed up the merits of asking Professor McGonagall if she could use her Floo instead of having to go back to the quarters of her soon-to-be-husband where one, or perhaps both of the men she was expected to wed might still be waiting.

Her cheeks were still pink from the reaction she'd had to Snape's voice and Sirius's hands, she was sure. Her heart seemed unable to regain a normal rhythm and the idea of seeing either of them again so soon made her jittery and nervous. Glancing at her watch, Hermione noted the time. It was almost lunch time. She needed to get going. She didn't doubt that Dumbledore would push the three of them to be wed just as soon as Sirius was cleared at the Ministry and she didn't want to miss out on getting a dress and shoes and everything she needed to at least make this farce of a wedding seem a bit like it was what they all wanted.

Screwing her courage to the sticking place, Hermione collected her purse and stomped out of the Common Room and all the way back down to the dungeons. She hesitated outside Snape's office, raising her hand to knock before recalling that she'd left Snape and Sirius alone inside. They were probably fighting or trying to kill each other and likely wouldn't hear her even if she bothered to knock. And anyway, as of that very evening, these would be as much her quarters and Sirius's as they were Snape's.

Gods, she didn't even want to think about how awkward and infuriating it was going to be, living with the two volatile wizards, and while she was still a student, too.

Pressing her lips together before turning the handle and letting herself into the room, Hermione frowned at the ominous silence that greeted her. The room was a mess, and Hermione's brow furrowed, knowing they hadn't left it this messy when she'd gone to get her purse.

"Snape?" she asked quietly, her brow furrowing when she spied him sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were closed, and he didn't react to her question or her entrance.

Hermione's heart sped up and she frowned, looking around the room, wondering if he'd finally lost his temper and killed Sirius. She scanned the area quickly, not spotting the Animagus anywhere, and seeing no blood. Maybe Sirius had just left? Maybe they'd just gotten into another argument and Sirius had left to keep them both from killing the other.

"Granger?" Snape's voice interrupted her racing thoughts when she checked the rooms off the main sitting room to be sure Sirius wasn't lying somewhere, dead.

Hermione spun toward the Potions Master, spying the fact that though he was still pinching the bridge of his nose as though suffering a nasty headache, his eyes were open and fixed on her.

"Are you alright?" she asked, frowning at him. "Where's Sirius? Have the two of you had another fight? I knew I shouldn't have left the pair of you alone."

She hurried across the room toward him as she spoke, moving close enough to reach for the hand he was pinching his nose with, intent on making sure he didn't have a broken nose. Hermione squealed in surprise when Professor Snape reached for her, tugging her down by the front of her robes and toppling her right into his lap. She wriggled immediately, the nature of her fall having left her straddling the dour wizard, but before she could squirm off his lap, he looped his arm around her waist and pressed his palm flat against the small of her back.

Sliding against him thanks to the grip he had on her, Hermione found herself very much inside Severus Snape's personal space and very much afraid when he looked at her like that. She was alarmingly aware of the fact that though she wore jeans, her core ground against his sinfully, especially when he held her pressed to him like that.

"Sir?" she asked in a small voice, suspecting that right then he was the very farthest thing from being her teacher.

"Don't call me that," he purred in that wicked voice of his that so made her want to do unspeakable things. "I'm not your teacher, anymore."

"I…. um… yes, sir. I mean… erm…" Hermione blushed crimson and she found him watching her intently.

"I make you uncomfortable," he pointed out, seeming intrigued.

Hermione wanted to argue with him, frowning.

"I'm straddling you, Snape," she said.

"You are," he nodded. "By this evening, you will likely be doing so whilst naked."

Hermione's blush grew even hotter.

"Um…" she said unintelligibly.

Snape's lips twitched like he might smirk, his arm around her remaining rigid when she squirmed, thinking it might be best to get off him as quickly as possible. It was clear that he was in no mood to be being nice or even polite to her, and he wasn't acting like himself.

"What happened in here?" she asked, trying to distract him. "The room is a mess."

Snape shrugged. "I lost my temper with Black."

"You haven't killed him, have you?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"It crossed my mind," he said, frowning a little. "I'm not the type of wizard who likes to share, Granger. Especially not with the likes of a mutt I've hated since adolescence."

"You're worried about having to share your space with Sirius and I, after the wedding?" she asked, frowning at him.

His dark eyes bored into her with such intensity that Hermione quivered in his hold, gulping audibly beneath his scrutiny an unsure what to make of the fact that their positions, and his intensity, were having an effect on her body that she wasn't sure she knew what to do with.

"After the wedding you will be _my_ wife, Miss Granger," he informed her in a low voice, his eyes tracing over her face as though he were trying to memorize her features, burning them into his mind.

Hermione's heart clenched, though with fear or something else, she wasn't certain. She'd never heard a man sound so _possessive_ in all her life and she gulped audibly a second time, unsure how to respond, but sensing that he most certainly wanted her to say something.

"And Sirius will be your husband," she reminded him.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Not if I kill him," he said. "And then there would be no call for sharing."

Hermione frowned at him.

"Am I of such value to you already that you would put your soul in jeopardy just to avoid sharing me, Snape?" she asked, confused by this version of him, which she'd surely never encountered before.

He seemed unerringly calm, but very much like there was a storm raging under the surface that threatened to break free at any moment with truly devastating effects. It was clear to her that he wasn't at all kidding when he suggested that killing off Sirius might be a better idea than having to share her and Hermione suspected that didn't at all bode well for their upcoming nuptials.

"You mean nothing to me," he said coldly, and Hermione winced at the utter truth that rang in his tone. "But, by Ministry decree, you are to be _my_ wife."

" _And_ Sirius's," Hermione said stiffly, trying to tamp down her hurt feelings at his utterly cold admittance. "No matter how uncomfortable the notion makes all three of us."

"Black can fuck off," Snape said, surprising her with his vicious language and his bluntness.

"Black is going to be as much my husband as you, and there is nothing else for it," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes on him. "Believe me, Snape. None of us are happy about this. You're not the only one considering murder to avoid this mess. But we agreed that it was best that we go along with this ridiculous notion for the sake of continuing the war effort. Now, if you have issues about sharing, you will either have to learn to control them, or keep them to yourself. You don't _care_ about me, as you've just said, so there is little cause for you to be acting possessive. I would appreciate it if you would release me so that I can be on my way to collect my dress, and if you could regain control of your faculties while I'm gone because, honestly, you're scaring me."

He curled his lip at her hatefully, never once taking his eyes off her and refusing to release the grip he had on her.

"This is your fault," he informed her.

"We've established that," Hermione snapped. "I'm sorry that I happen to have a type and that, much to my horror, you and Sirius happen to both _be_ that type. But this is how it's going to be. Now, are you going to continue being a complete wanker, or do I need to hex you?"

"You couldn't if you tried," he smirked, and Hermione got the distinct impression that this intense and fierce version of him she was seeing was the real Severus Snape. The person he truly was on the inside, when he didn't have masters to jump through hoops for, and when he didn't have dunderheaded fools to teach.

He was cruel and cold and beyond terrifying. She could practically see the Darkness swimming in his eyes as he looked at her, and she felt very much like a tiny mouse caught in the claws of a wretched cat, intent on playing with his food before devouring it.

"Why have you pulled me into your lap?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her head and think rationally, suspecting that threats would get her nowhere, and that he was just itching for a good duel, and thus, pulling her wand on him would be an unfortunate idea.

"As of this evening, you will belong in my lap," Snape informed her. "Perhaps you ought to get used to it."

"Perhaps I ought to remind you that we are not married yet, and that manhandling a woman against her will is considered a crime," Hermione retorted frostily.

"Don't pretend you are afraid of me, Granger," Snape drawled, his hand on her lower back pressing into her, forcing her to shift in his lap until her core ground against him in a way that made her squirm.

"I am, actually," she admitted quietly. "You are… taking liberties that frighten me."

"Because you have such limited experience with men?" he asked, tipping his head to one side and regarding her like some fascinating experiment he'd cooked up.

"Because this morning you were my Potions teacher and had never looked at me sideways or paid any attention to me beyond sneering at me and insulting me when the opportunity arose. Forgive me for finding it alarming that a scant few hours later, you've pulled me into your lap and are attempting to grind me against your apparently growing erection whilst informing me – very possessively – that you want to kill the other man I'm expected to marry and that as soon as we're married, I will belong on your lap, preferably naked. It is out of character and it's making me nervous, so please, for the love of Merlin, desist!"

She squeaked in surprise when he suddenly released her, dropping his hands and sitting back as far as he could in his chair, regarding her coolly.

"Get off, then," he snapped.

Hermione wondered if it was possible to get whiplash even whilst sitting still. Because she was surely in danger of it with Snape acting like this.

Sighing heavily, and putting her hands on his shoulders, Hermione leaned back a little in his lap, but she didn't move off him. He was right. In very short order she was going to be his wife, and come the evening, she was going to be expected to have sex with him _and_ with Sirius, and that was hardly going to be easy if she couldn't even sit, fully clothed, in his lap without panicking.

"Are you feeling alright, Snape?" she asked, frowning at him.

"I'm expected to wed my nemesis and one of my least favourite students," he drawled. "What do you think?"

"I think you're angry," Hermione said. "But right now, you don't seem angry so much as… prideful, and a bit arrogant, if I'm being honest."

"Try to be less honest," he sneered, though he looked wickedly amused, rather than insulted.

She shook her head slowly, tracing her eyes over his features and trying to commit them to memory, knowing that in the coming days – Merlin, in the coming _decades_ \- she was going to have to get used to peering into his face. He was by no means handsome, she noticed. His nose was too long and too hooked, and he had a perpetual sneer that seemed to have worked its way into the few lines on his face. His hair was long, brushing his shoulders in twin black curtains and framing his rather pointed and sallow face in a way that made it obvious he preferred not to be looked at very closely.

"You're staring," he drawled, and Hermione suspected he was using Legilimency and listening to her thoughts as she eyed him.

"I know," Hermione said softly, lifting a hand and reaching toward the dark curtain of hair that covered the left side of his face. "May I touch you, Snape?"

Snape eyed her for a long moment while her hand hovered, not quite touching him, before he shrugged and looked away. Hermione carefully gathered his hair, tucking it back behind his ears so that she could better see his face and he flinched minutely when she traced her fingers across his forehead, noting the heavy frown lines marring an otherwise proud brow.

Slowly, she trailed her fingers over his dark eyebrows, smoothing them before carefully tracing the tip of her finger down the length of his nose. He looked like he wanted to pull away, clearly sensitive about his nose, but he didn't say anything. Smoothing her thumbs across his cheeks, Hermione took note of the dark circles under his eyes and wondered if he got enough sleep. Knowing even a little of what he was expected to do as a Death Eater made her doubt he slept very well. He shuddered minutely when she drew her fingers along the length of his sharp jaw before trailing them toward his lips. She'd never noticed his lips before, but they were surprisingly sensual for so hard a man.

When she drew the pad of her thumb along his lower lip, Snape took a slow, shaky breath, his eyes darting back up to clash with hers.

"Not what you hoped?" he sneered. "After all, if your tastes run more toward pretty wizards like Black, then I expect this must be very disappointing for you."

Hermione realised with a twitch of her lips that he was both self-conscious, and disdainful, clearly loathing the fact that Sirius was pretty when Severus wasn't.

"Actually, Snape, the enactment of the law and your matching up with me and Sirius would suggest that my tastes run a little deeper than aesthetic appeal, don't you think?" she asked, still touching his lip and wondering how he might react if she were to kiss him.

It was an alarming sensation, the sudden urge she felt to kiss the lips that had formed such harsh words to hurt her in the past, but it pervaded her mind just the same.

"I'm to believe you care more for intelligence than appearances?" he asked, raising that infernal eyebrow that so often made people want to swear at him.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I don't delude myself into believing that I am all that beautiful, sir. I have always valued my intelligence over my appearance. I don't care what you look like."

"But you would prefer to be seen with the likes of Black, rather than with me," he inferred.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I confess, I like Sirius. He makes me laugh, when he's not encouraging Harry to do something reckless and not mistaking him for James. But there are also times when I positively hate the man for being the stubborn, belligerent, arrogant sod he can be – especially when he's been drinking. As for you…"

"You hate me," he said, and Hermione began to suspect he had a bad habit of jumping to conclusions and trying to put the words in other people's mouths.

"No," she shook her head again, smiling a little. "I like you, too. Admittedly, I know less about you beyond the fact that you are often boorishly unkind when the mood strikes, and that you are an extremely capable teacher – no matter your habit of belittling and provoking your students. I admit that just as there are times when I hate Sirius, there are times when I'm certainly uncharitable in my thoughts of you. But there are also times when I find myself admiring you, and despite your frequent cruelty, I respect you very much, sir."

"Stop calling me sir," he hissed, narrowing his eyes on her.

"Stop thinking you know my mind better than I do and stop jumping to conclusions, then," Hermione said. "Look, Snape. During my interview with the Ministry where they extrapolated the Limerence for these silly matches, the only things I listed as being of interest to me were personality traits, and dark hair. And it must certainly be said that you fit the bill, as you've got dark hair, and so many wicked personality traits that I'm certain I could spend a lifetime with you and still not entirely understand all of them. What little I know of you suggests that you are intensely driven; focused; witty; exceedingly intelligent; sometimes cruel; utterly volatile; you have a wicked temper, and I would be willing to wager that when you find something that takes your fancy, you are unwaveringly and intensely passionate about it. And though it is hardly what you want to hear, I expect you will find that you share a number of those traits with Sirius. So, while it is clear that none of us are overly thrilled by this match, there's nothing for it but to try and make the best of things."

"The best I could make of it would be eliminating him form the equation," Snape muttered.

Hermione traced her thumb along his lower lip again.

"If you did, you would still be stuck with me, you know? And there would be no one else to distract me from nagging and whining and taking my foul moods out on you," she said. "Make no mistake, Snape, this will be a mess trying to have the two of you cohesively live together, but I am by no means easy to live with. When we are married, I expect there will be times when you're grateful Sirius is here, lest you be faced with the full force of my annoying personality alone."

"An annoying personality can be dealt with by bending you over something and fucking you until you forget whatever bee was in your bonnet," Snape drawled, and Hermione's cheeks turned pink at the suggestion.

"Well…" she said, clearing her throat and not at all liking the wicked smirk that flashed across his face. "Maybe the same tactic could be employed whenever Sirius annoys you."

He lost his smirk immediately.

"No!" he said coldly.

"You're going to have to live with him, Snape," she reminded him. "And I'm certain that Sirius swings both ways."

"I don't," he argued.

Hermione tipped her head to one side, regarding him curiously.

"You seem awfully sure of that fact," she pointed out before daring to ask; "Tried it before?"

It was his turn to blush, and his expression grew murderous.

"That's hardly your business, is it?" he sneered.

"Well, since you'll be my husband in less than twelve hours, I think it might be, sir," she said.

"If you call me sir one more time, I'm going to snog you until you forget how to speak, witch," he warned her.

Hermione couldn't quite fight the smirk that pulled at her lips and she watched the way the dour Potion Masters's eyes lowered to fix upon them. Licking them nervously when the tension between the two of the spiked, Hermione slowly traced the pad of her thumb across his lower lip one more time before very deliberately meeting his gaze and whispering.

"Yes, sir."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: *Dashes by, stopping only long enough to stuff this chapter into your pocket***

 ***winks and waves over shoulder***

 ***disappears to another fic to share more chapters***

 **xx-Kitten.**

* * *

 **Limerence Laws**

 _By Kittenshift17_

* * *

 **CHAPTER TEN**

* * *

Severus narrowed his eyes on the defiant little witch before reaching to tangle one hand into her loose curls. She didn't fight him when he pulled her down even as he reached up to capture her lips. The teacherly part of his brain was screaming at him that he ought not to be defiling a student in such a manner, but the wicked part of him wanted to taste the lips brave enough to defy him.

He'd been beyond furious since Black had left, confused and utterly baffled in addition to being furious. The little witch's daring had only antagonized him all the more and Severus lingered for just a moment, watching the way her breathing sped up and listening to the tumult he'd made of her thoughts as he hovered, a hairsbreadth from her lips before finally closing the distance between the two of them.

She made a soft sound as he brushed his lips lightly against hers, his actions not at all in line with his threat of snogging her into forgetfulness. She leaned into him carefully, clearly uncertain of how to proceed and nervous enough to be cautious. Severus wondered if he should be relieved, or annoyed. The idea that in a few hours he would have to vow himself to the little witch, in addition to the fucking mutt, was enough to make his blood boil, but when she shifted in his lap, Severus couldn't deny that he was curious about what would follow.

Even if it _would_ have to involve Black, too.

If anyone had told him as early as yesterday that he might soon be snogging one of his students - one of his least favourite students - and sitting with her straddling his lap, he'd have sent them the Hospital Wing, accusing them of ingesting Befuddlement Draught. Yet there he sat, a student on his lap and his hands tangled in her hair while he kissed her. She pressed her lips to his tentatively, as though she wasn't entirely sure he wasn't going to shove her off his lap at a moment's notice. Maybe she feared he had no idea how to kiss a woman.

Maybe she doubted his ability to lure her into remaining on his lap all afternoon, if he so chose. Maybe he should give her a little taste of what something between them could grow to be if they made the best of things, like she wanted. The truth was, Severus most certainly did _not_ want to make the best of things. He'd spent his life making the bloody best of things every time he was dealt a shitty hand, and every single time it'd only led to his increased suffering. The last thing he wanted was to go through with this mess. He'd prefer to give up magic and disappear, if he was honest. He knew enough about the muggle world that he would manage to get by on the other side of the divide just fine, if he had to.

So did Granger, for that matter. Black was the only would who would suffer in that regard, and Severus had to remind himself that while those things might be true, he wouldn't last long in that life when the Dark Lord hunted him down.

Then again, if he had his magic ripped from within him, he would no longer be of any use to the Dark Lord and might very well just be left the hell alone. Severus shifted the witch in his lap when she carefully parted her lips, clearly interested in deepening their chaste kiss to a snog. He obliged her, his own curiosity prickling to know that the girl really _was_ sitting there and snogging him rather than pulling away.

She had absolutely no talent for Occlumency, or if she did, she certainly wasn't employing it because he could hear every thought running through her mind when he was touching her so intimately, even if they did both have their eyes closed. She wasn't thinking of anyone else as she kissed him, and she wasn't thinking anything uncharitable. She didn't even register surprise that he was a decent kisser and Severus would've shaken his head if it wouldn't have caused her to pull away.

Carefully tracing the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, Severus waited for her to part her lips further. He jolted a little in surprise when she met his tongue with her own, causing a strange little sizzle of magic to rush through him, flipping his stomach and making his rapidly hardening cock twitch. When she reached up and slowly slid her fingers into his hair, heedless of its greasiness, Severus threw caution to the wind and simply let himself snog the little witch. He'd threatened to make her forget how to speak, and he was bloody well going to do so.

She rolled her hips, making him tense, and Severus kissed her harder, letting a little of his darker nature bleed into their activities. She returned his fervour, rolling her hips again and tightening his hands in his hair until she gripped fistfuls of it hard enough to sting. Severus tightened his grip on the witch accordingly, giving himself over to the kiss and reminding himself that in a few hours he would likely have to kiss her again before having to work with the mutt and consummate their bloody marriage. Merlin's fucking arsehole, _that_ was going to be uncomfortable.

Maybe he should fuck her now. Right here. Right this minute, to better prepare her for what was undoubtedly going to be a painful encounter later. He didn't actually fancy the idea of causing the poor little bitch unnecessary pain just because the Ministry had instigated such a barbaric law. If Granger hadn't fucked anyone in months – as she'd said – then she was hardly going to be used to handling having one cock filling her pussy, let alone two.

Before he could enact a plan of seduction to get his chance at fucking her when Black wasn't present, she suddenly tore her lips from his, leaning back in his hold and breathing heavily.

"Problem?" Severus drawled, aware that his voice was husky and reminding himself that she was still young.

Much younger than himself, and Black, that was certain.

"I…" she panted, opening her eyes slowly and looking a little like she was dizzy.

"You're confused," Severus articulated for her when she couldn't seem to hold onto a coherent thought long enough for it to fully form.

"You're using Legilimency on me?" she frowned, latching onto that idea and startling him with the vehemence he could sense in her mind at the idea.

"Yes," Severus nodded.

"But that's an invasion of privacy," she protested, frowning at him.

"It's hardly a voluntary venture, Miss Granger," Severus replied, his eyes flashing at her in annoyance when she put her hands on his chest and leaned back even further in his lap to glare at him. "Contrary to whatever notions you might have about Legilimency, it's not something that can just be turned on and off at will. I hardly _intend_ to hear every passing fancy floating through the heads of those around me, but that doesn't prevent me from doing so."

"You can't shut it off?" she asked.

Severus shrugged. "If there are too many people in a room, it become white-noise. If I focus on one individual, as I am prone to doing on those occasions when I have a willing witch in my lap, turning it off is hardly a priority."

"But…" she frowned at him. "What if you pick up on thoughts that you shouldn't hear? Things you don't like? Don't you need a way to turn if off to keep from hearing things that might upset you."

"You believe the whirrings of your mind might displease me, Miss Granger?" Severus asked, smirking a little.

"I don't imagine you'd like knowing what goes through my head, mid-snog, sir."

"I'll snog you again if you keep calling me sir," he warned her.

"That's an invitation, not a threat, Snape," she rolled her eyes, clearly not bothering to sensor the words when the thought popped into her head now that she knew for certain he could hear what she was thinking.

"The next time you call me 'sir', I will hex you, then," he threatened, and Granger narrowed her eyes on him, thinking that she just dared him to try it before recalling just who he was and what he was capable of.

"I don't want you listening to my every thought, S-Severus," she said, stumbling over his first name just a little. "I _know_ that things race through my head that aren't suitable for sharing. You don't want to hear me accidentally thinking about someone else whilst snogging you, do you?"

"Spent a lot of time thinking of other men whilst with your previous bed-partners, Miss Granger?" Severus challenged, smirking wickedly.

"Sometimes imagination is more potent than physical sensation," she replied primly, and Severus smirked, rather amused by the way her cheeks flushed pink.

"And what types of things are you prone to imagining to get yourself off, hmmm, Granger?" he coaxed, his hand on her lower back beginning to massage the tightness of a knot of tension he found near the base of her spine.

"I… that's hardly your business, Prof… um… Severus," she said, stumbling with his title again and remining him how lascivious he was being without even meaning to, in addition to reminding him how very young she was. She was of age, certainly, but her inexperience with discussing her needs and desires was obvious.

"I'm your fiancé," he reminded her in a low voice, his eyes fixed on her face, forcing her to hold his intense gaze. "Your desires just became very much my business."

"You're not my husband, yet," she argued. "And you're not shagging me, yet. So, I think I'd like to keep them to myself for a little while longer."

"You don't wish to continue this… interaction… in the bedroom?" he asked, raising one eyebrow at her.

She blushed crimson, gasping a little in surprise at the blunt invitation.

"I… Snape, what are you saying?" she whispered, looking uncertain and confused.

"I'm inviting you to bed, witch," he rolled his eyes.

"But… we… I mean, what about… um…"

Severus narrowed his eyes on her when a single thought floated into her head, which related to the notion of it being considered cheating should she engage with him in sex when Black wasn't present.

"It would be a mistake to imagine this will be a seamless and cohesive triad relationship, Granger," Severus informed her coolly, his eyes still narrowed. "There will be times when you will fuck me without Black, and likely when you will fuck Black without me. It would hardly be considered infidelity."

She nibbled her lip.

"Does that mean there might also be times when you and Sirius might shag without me?" she frowned at him, looking like she almost didn't dare to ask, but couldn't bear not knowing.

"I don't swing both ways," Severus informed her.

"I don't think I believe you," she blurted, eyeing him strangely and Severus frowned at her.

"Why not?" he asked, baffled by the assertion more than he was annoyed.

The truth was, he had no fucking idea anymore what took his fancy in between the sheets. It was true that he'd doubled Cissy alongside Lucius, and that he and Lucius had… experimented… during the encounter. It was true, too, that he'd snogged Black that day in the bloody corridor, and no matter what he'd told the mutt, Severus knew there had been many instances since that wretched encounter that he'd caught himself eyeing the Animagus during their final year, and many times that he'd wondered what the bloody hell was wrong with him that he'd snogged the bastard without shoving him off right away, and especially what might be wrong with him that, based on the boner he'd sported, he'd fucking enjoyed it.

"You don't actually seem all that angry about the notion of the way these matches were decided. With the arrangement being one witch to two wizards," she said. "You've said you don't like sharing, and that you're possessive, and your hatred for Sirius is clear and always has been. But you don't seem outraged simply by the notion of having to marry another man, in addition to a woman. You object to Sirius, yes, but would you be objecting just as much if the second wizard in this equation was… I don't know… a friend of yours? Lucius Malfoy, perhaps?"

"Lucius is already married," Severus pointed out.

"He was just an example," she rolled her eyes. "I was going to say Remus, but you don't much like him, either. And I don't know of anyone else you actually _do_ like. The point is, you're not… disgusted… by the notion of one woman with two men. You haven't reacted the way Ron did, anyway, in that you haven't obtusely pointed out that Sirius is, in fact, also male."

"And as a result, you think me to be of fluid sexuality?" he inquired, frowning at her.

"Are you?" she asked, frowning at him. "I'm hardly going to judge you, Snape. To be honest, I find myself hoping that you _do_ swing both ways because it might mean things between you and Sirius might at least be worked out with a good shag."

"I doubt Black is capable of providing a _good_ shag," Severus sneered.

She snorted, scoffing at his suggestion.

"I expect he's had more than enough practice to have mastered the art, Snape," Granger argued. "I've heard tales of how he spent his days at Hogwarts, and I've witnessed him arriving back at Grimmauld Place after a wild night out, smeared with lipstick, stinking of sex and cheap perfume."

"You're aware he's a whore, then?" Severus needled.

She nodded.

"And you don't care?" Severus frowned at her.

"Well, I expect I'll care when we're all married," she frowned at him. "I am _not_ a witch who would take infidelity lightly, or well, and I hardly have the self-esteem for such a blow to my own ego should you or Sirius go looking for it elsewhere. But whatever he's done in the past is his business. He wasn't my problem, then."

"And me?" he asked, still frowning at the witch and wondering how she could dismiss Black's torrid past so easily.

"You have a tart-filled past too, Severus?" she asked.

Severus narrowed his eyes on her. "You think I shouldn't?" he challenged, insulted.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," she scowled at him. "Are you going to be this sensitive the _entire_ time we're married, Snape? I wasn't implying that you aren't as much of a rake as Sirius, or that you couldn't possibly be. I wasn't insulting your appearance, your personality, or your character. I only meant to ask if you _had_ been as sexually promiscuous as Sirius."

Severus scowled, wondering how she'd react if he dumped her off his lap and onto the floor for daring to sass him.

"I've plenty of experience. More than Black in the last fifteen years, in any case."

"He's done plenty to make up for the years lost in Azkaban," Granger replied, rolling her eyes. "The point is, if you've shagged around as much as him, well, then I hope you've the experience to show for it, and that you're already hard at work on a potion to cure whatever STIs and STDs you might've both picked up."

Severus scowled at her, rather loathing that for all her youth and her inexperience in some regards, it was clear that talking down to men was something she'd mastered long ago. Then again, he supposed that being friends with Potter and Weasley had leant her plenty of opportunity to learn.

"It's brewing," he informed her, eyeing her curiously.

He wouldn't have minded inviting her to bed again, and he was sure he'd feel better about life briefly were he to bury all his problems inside her cunt, but he was too stubborn to offer again. If she wanted to shag him, it was her turn to initiate.

"Good," she nodded. "Well… despite your… um… offer… I think it would be better if I went and got my dress. That way the potion might be ready by the time I return. And hopefully the potion you gave me to cease my… ah… flow… will have kicked in by then. And I rather think a bath might be in order, after that."

Severus scowled, recalling that she'd mentioned she was on the rag. So much for the idea of shagging her into submission and preparing her for being doubly penetrated. Not that he personally cared all that much about a bit of blood, but he could tell from the delicate blush staining her cheeks that she wasn't going to let him ravish her yet.

"Do you have money?" he asked seriously, frowning at her.

She blinked at him from where she was perched on his knees.

"A little," she nodded. "I don't imagine anything I pick up will be all that… fancy… but it's better than turning up in jeans, yeah?"

She looked like she'd rather turn up in the jeans and Severus wasn't sure he blamed her. Weddings were tedious affairs and he hardly looked forward to his own. Then again, he would be stuck with this bossy little witch and with the mutt for the rest of his – hopefully, numbered – days, and he supposed it would be better to be able to think back on the moment and smile at the idea of her in a pretty white dress, than it would be to imagine her in scuffed jeans and sneakers.

Granger squeaked when he gripped her hips and lifted her off him with ease, standing her between his knees before jostling her back ever so slightly as he rose to his feet. Severus kind of liked the way she gulped audibly when she found herself pressed against the full length of his powerful frame, her short stature dwarfed by his height. Her breasts pressed against his chest through the fabric of their clothing and Severus wondered if maybe he ought to stop drinking when the idea to seduce her into bed with him despite her predicament and despite the need for other tasks to be completed, struck him forcefully.

"Come," he instructed quietly, sliding around her and stalking in the direction of his bedroom.

"I… where are we going?" she frowned, trailing after him. "I just said that I… Honestly, Snape, I think this would be awkward enough without adding blood and mess to the equation."

Severus smirked over his shoulder at the witch when she stopped in the doorway that lead into the bedroom.

"I'm not seducing you, witch," he said, digging a hand into the bottom drawer of his bedside table and fishing out a small coin purse.

"Oh," she said. "Well, then… what are you…?"

She trailed off when Severus fished a few hundred pound notes from the purse and offered them to her.

"I can't take your money, sir," she frowned at the notes, clearly noting they were muggle currency, not wizarding coins.

"You hardly have enough of your own to buy a decent wedding dress, Miss Granger."

"You can't just…" she began, looking concerned.

"I'd prefer it if you looked decent during the ceremony, witch," he admitted gruffly. "Look good enough to distract me from Black's presence, please."

She seemed so shocked by his request and his manners that she automatically reached out, accepting the money.

"And shop in muggle London," he warned. "Keep to the busy areas. Take Tonks with you, if you can. In any case, do not go alone. Until you are married to me, you will have no protection against the Death Eaters should they happen across you."

"Snape…" she began, frowning up at him and seeming like she didn't entirely understand.

He caught her confused thoughts and he almost smiled, raising one eyebrow at her.

"You asked me to make the best of things, Miss Granger," he reminded her. "So, go and buy a fancy gown and get all dressed up to tie the knot between the two of us and Black, and then prepare to get drunk enough to forget tonight ever happened, come the morning."

She shook her head at him a little, tucking the money he'd given her into her purse.

"You know," she began, tipping her head to one side as she regarded him when he stepped closer and invaded her personal space once more. "I'm beginning to think that there is a lot more to you than I ever realised, Severus Snape."

Severus raised one sceptical eyebrow and leaned slowly toward her, intent on stealing another dizzying kiss from her lips before Black could go sullying her with his touch.

"Don't tell anyone," he muttered just before he snogged her into submission all over again.


End file.
